All The Wrong Reasons
by Dmarx
Summary: "I lied to you. We've hardly spoken in two days. And now..." Her voice wavers, and she shakes her head regretfully, hating that she's doing this to him. "That's not a solid foundation for the future, Castle." Entry for the 2013 Castle Ficathon. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_Summary: "I lied to you. We've hardly spoken in two days. And now..." Her voice wavers, and she shakes her head regretfully, hating that she's doing this to him. "That's not a solid foundation for the future, Castle." Entry for the 2013 Castle Ficathon._

_Author's Note: Yep, another one of those pesky post-finale fics. Not even sorry. Thank you so much to Andy for reading multiple versions of these first few chapters and helping me turn random jumbles of conversation into something coherent. And many thanks to Angie for the lovely cover art :)_

_Disclaimer: The Castle writers are probably travelling the world right now. I'm sitting at my desk staring out the window and wishing I could be outside enjoying the sunshine._

* * *

**All The Wrong Reasons**

**Chapter 1**

"_Whatever happens, whatever you decide...Katherine Houghton Beckett, will you marry me?"_

He's down on one knee, looking up at her with such fierce determination, a diamond ring sparkling between his fingertips, and...he can't be serious right now.

Kate opens her mouth, closes it again when no words come out, and she can see the hope fading from his eyes, the pain clouding his face as her lack of answer threads through the space between them.

"Castle, I..." she stammers.

What?

"It's a yes or no question, Kate," he pushes, but his voice is tight and his eyes are hard and he looks like he's about to cry. Hell, she's about to cry.

Because this is all wrong.

"I got the job," she blurts, and it's the wrong thing to say, so completely wrong, but what have they actually done right in the last week?

He sits back, drops his hand, and she sees it all fall from his face. The love, the forgiveness, the determination to make his stand, leave no doubt in her mind as to where they're headed. Because once again, she hesitated. And when she finally found the words to speak, they weren't even close to the ones that should have come out of her mouth.

"Right," he mumbles, dejected.

"Castle, I asked you here to talk things through," she hastens to explain, "not to..."

Propose.

Good lord. He just proposed to her.

Castle sighs brokenly, closes his eyes against the water droplets that swim in front of his vision. "Is this you saying no?" he asks finally, and she sees the crushing agony in his eyes as he forces them open again. His shoulders slump even as the words leave his mouth, resignation flashing through his features, because he opened himself up, laid his heart on the line, and it still wasn't enough. He shakes his head. What was he even thinking?

Of course Kate wouldn't commit to marrying him.

It was stupid of him to even bother asking. A stupid, impulsive decision made in a desperate attempt not to lose the woman he loves. He doesn't even care if she chooses to go to DC. He just wants to be with her. He wants no more doubts, no more insecurity, no more questioning where they're going, by her or by anyone else.

But it doesn't matter now, because she doesn't seem to want the same.

"Castle," Kate says finally, his name breaking on her lips as she forces back the sob that wants to escape. "I lied to you. We've hardly spoken in two days. And now..." Her voice wavers, and she shakes her head regretfully, hating that she's doing this to him. "That's not a solid foundation for the future."

"It doesn't matter," he blurts recklessly. Wasn't that what his mother said? It's who she is. The walls are a part of her, ingrained so deeply for so many years. He understands where they came from, understands that they've been her coping mechanism for years, and habits like this aren't ones that are easy to break. He completely understands. But he doesn't like it, can't stand the way these walls have taught her to lie and conceal and hold everything so close to the vest. Even after all this time, they still find themselves tangled up in the same webs of lies and secrets.

But he loves her, and he's just going to have to accept this about her. A foundation can be built on acceptance, right?

"It does, Castle," Kate replies, and this time there is no hesitation in her voice. "It does matter. A marriage can't be based on lies."

"So you're saying no?"

"No," she bursts, nearly launches herself off the swing but refrains at the last minute. "No," she continues more softly, raising a placating hand. "I'm not saying no. I'm saying...not now."

"Right."

"Castle..."

"No, I get it."

"No, I don't think you do."

"Beckett..."

"Castle..."

They both grind to a halt, wide and panicked green eyes meeting hollow and desolate blue ones. The chains of the swings sway gently between them, catching in Kate's peripheral vision, and she can't help but liken their twisted configuration to the current situation that they're in. One for which she's largely responsible. And now she needs to get them out of it.

"I came here to talk about the job," Kate offers after a moment. "And...us."

"What about us?" he practically snorts in disdain.

"About where we're going. About...everything we never talk about."

"That's rich, Beckett."

"I'm not just blaming you," she shoots back. "We're both at fault here."

"Well, there's no need," Castle retorts, getting to his feet and shoving the ring forcefully into the depths of his pocket as the swing flings out behind him, pendulums back and hits him in the back of the thighs. But he doesn't flinch, muscles hardened along with the rest of him at her betrayal, her rejection. "It's pretty clear that we're not going in the same direction."

"Castle..."

"Please," he begs, stepping back, and he's about to walk away. She can see it. This time, he actually _is_ going to break up with her.

"Rick..."

He turns his back, everything about him sagging with defeat.

"You should take the job, Beckett," he says, his parting words. "DC will be lucky to have you."

And then he's gone.

* * *

She watches him leave with tears in her eyes, everything she should have said and done flooding her mind. Because she should have told him about the interview. She should have been honest with him from the moment Stack offered it to her. But she didn't, and now she's about to lose the only man she's ever truly loved. All because of a job.

A job she doesn't even want anymore.

It's a hell of an opportunity, and Gates' words of praise still ring heavily in her ears. But when she thought about it being her last case, about it being the last time she ever pulled a confession out of a suspect in that room, she felt the first hints of doubt sneak in.

And when Martin fought back, accused her of wasting her time, Kate knew she couldn't do it. She couldn't leave. Because what she does at the Twelfth is anything but wasteful. She takes killers off the streets, brings justice to families. She keeps the city safe, the same city, the same cause, that her mother devoted her life to. And sure, she'd be doing that in DC too, and she knows her mother would want this opportunity for her. But it wouldn't be the same, and she thinks her mother would understand that as well.

It wouldn't mean as much in DC. Because DC isn't her home.

Her home is in New York City.

Her home is with the man who just walked away from her.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: There was some confusion over the original summary, so I've made some minor changes. Hopefully it all makes sense now. And a massive thank you to everyone for the response to the first chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"He proposed."

Wine spews across the counter. "He what now?"

"Castle proposed."

"Judging by the lack of diamonds on your left hand, I'm assuming things didn't go so well," Lanie observes bluntly.

Kate sighs wearily, sinks onto the bar stool. "This is such a mess, Lanie."

She sets her wine glass aside, regards her friend sympathetically. "Did you two break up?"

A weak shrug, another broken sigh. "I'm not sure."

Lanie sobers. "What happened?"

She closes her eyes, forces back the tears. "We met up to talk. I didn't know what to expect, but I was planning to tell him that I got the job, and that I wanted to talk about...us. But he started talking about how he wanted more and we both deserved more. I thought he was about to break up with me, Lanie." Her voice wavers and she has to pause, regain what's left of her composure. "And then he..." she gestures a forward motion with her free hand, takes a large swig of wine.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry."

Kate shakes her head again, shoulders slumping forward. "So am I."

"So you said no?" Lanie asks after a moment.

"I said 'not now.'" She shakes her head sadly. "But he took it as a no."

"Kate..." her friend reaches out, covers her hand on the countertop.

"He was so broken, Lanie," she whispers, tears spilling from her eyes for the first time since he walked away from her an hour ago. "I never wanted to hurt him."

"I know, sweetie," she soothes.

"But that's all I've managed to do."

Silence falls, heavy with guilt and regrets. Kate swipes at a few more tears, a losing battle, finally just lets them fall. She feels awful. She can't remember the last time she felt so awful. But she supposes that she deserves it.

"Maybe he just needs some time," Lanie suggests eventually, refilling her wine, offering the bottle to Kate, who tops off her own glass.

"What if that's not enough?" Kate asks, the words catching in her throat at the mere thought of having pushed too far this time.

"You'll never know if you don't try."

She sets her glass aside, pushes it away, suddenly sick to her stomach as possible outcomes swirl through her mind. What if he ignores her? What if he won't listen to the profuse apologies she owes him? What if he refuses to give them another chance? Give _her _another chance?

"God, Lanie, what have I done?" she groans, dropping her head into her hands as a fresh wave of tears flood her eyes.

"Look, sweetie, I know there's a lot going on that I know nothing about, but from what I've heard from you this week, I'd say you two need to get your heads outta your asses and _talk_ to each other."

"I know," she concedes, resigned. "I know." She shakes her head. "I should have told him before."

Lanie squeezes her friend's hand before releasing her grip, wrapping her fingers around the stem of her wine glass again. "So what are you gonna do?"

"About the job, or about Castle?"

"Both."

Kate shakes her head, cursing herself with every moment that passes, because how could she have been so stupid? So selfish?

"I don't know."

Silence falls again, and Kate traces the crack between the panels of the countertop, her fingernail wedged into the small gap. She follows the motion with her eyes, an absent-minded back and forth, as her brain stumbles through possible scenarios. So far, she doesn't like how any of them play out.

"So you got the job?" Lanie's voice breaks through her thoughts after a few minutes.

"Yeah," she replies almost absently, as though DC is the last thing on her mind.

"Are you taking it?"

"I don't know," she replies again, a three word answer that pretty well sums up her entire life right now. "I wasn't going to..."

"But now if he breaks up with you, you will," Lanie finishes.

"I don't know." She swipes at a tear, wipes her hand on her pant leg. "He...he said no matter what I decided. He said it like he would follow me to DC."

"He's been in love with you for years, Kate. Of course he'd follow you."

"But do you think...?"

"Do I think...?" Lanie prompts when she falls silent.

"What if he only asked because he assumed proposing would make me decide to stay?"

"Kate, do you really think that after five years, the man _doesn't _want to marry you?"

"No, not...I believe him," she clarifies.

"Then what's the issue?"

"What if this is just what he does?" Kate questions, finally giving voice to the one thing that's been weighing most heavily on her mind since the moment he got down on one knee.

"What is?"

"Think about it, Lanie," she points out. "Meredith gets pregnant, so he proposes. Things with Gina seem to be working out, so he proposes. I consider moving to DC, so he proposes. How do I even know..." she trails off with a shake of her head.

"That it's real this time?" Lanie finishes softly.

Kate nods. "Yeah."

"Here's what I think," the ME begins determinedly, unwilling to let her friend off the hook. "I think it's real because the man has been following you around for five years now and he's probably been in love with you for most of it. I think it's real because I've been watching the two of you that entire time, and I've known you for ten years, and I've never seen anyone make you so happy."

"I..."

Lanie holds up a hand, barrels on. "I think it's real because he stuck around and wore you down and never gave up on you. And you let him. Because I think that, deep down, you've known for a while that it's real."

Kate lifts her head then, eyes wide in shock.

"And I think that terrifies you."

"I...yeah," she admits after a moment, because she can deny it all she wants, but Lanie hit the nail on the head and Kate knows that she knows that. "It does. And I've been trying _so hard_, Lanie. I put together the fake murder for his birthday, I told him I loved him, and he just kind of...backed off."

"Sweetie, can you blame him? He spent four years doing things at your pace."

"I thought..." Kate shakes her head. "I thought wrong, apparently. About a lot of things."

"I think you both did," Lanie amends. "I think you both thought you weren't ready for more, so you both never mentioned it. And I think Castle was completely okay with that. Until now."

"I've made such a mess of this, Lanie."

The ME covers Kate's hand again, gives her an encouraging squeeze. "So go make it better."

Kate slowly gets to her feet and the ME does the same, embraces her friend. She clings to her just a moment longer than normal, drawing strength and courage from Lanie's confidence in her.

"Thanks, Lanie."

She smiles softly, practically shoos Kate out of her apartment. "Just remember, Kate. He loves you."

The door shuts behind her and she leans back against it, takes a deep breath, exhales long and slow.

_He loves you._

She hopes that's enough.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Just to clarify a couple of things: (1) this is for the ficathon, meaning the goal is 50,000 words; and (2) chapters will be fairly short to keep it manageable, but updates will be fairly quick._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"Huh."

Castle lifts his head to find his mother standing in the doorway, eyes scanning the room, taking in the lack of light and the bottle of scotch and the Nikki Heat cover art samples stacked upside down and shoved haphazardly beneath a pile of papers.

She gestures about the room. "I take it she got the job."

Castle downs another finger of scotch, slams the glass onto his desk with much more force than necessary.

"And accepted," Martha tacks on following her son's response.

"I assume she'll accept," he answers bitterly, eyes fixed on his empty glass, on the way the few remaining drops of brown liquid stain the bottom of the dish, something so clear yet so easily tarnished. It feels depressingly reminiscent of his life.

"She didn't tell you?"

"It didn't really come up."

"Richard," she coos, and he can tell by her tone of voice that she sees right through his attempts at deflection. She takes a seat on the edge of the desk, dramatic flair evaporating, replaced by motherly concern. "Come on, kiddo. What happened?"

He doesn't answer at first, the words _I proposed_ caught in his throat, but he chokes them down, buries them beneath the grief and pain and anger and betrayal and all the other emotions that he can't even keep track of.

"I stopped holding back," he recounts brokenly, finally, blinking hard against the moisture that still lingers in his eyes but has yet to find its escape. "But it wasn't enough."

"Now why do I have a feeling this isn't the whole story?"

Castle sighs heavily, reaches into his pocket for the object that's just one of the many reasons for the fact that he's sitting in his office in the dark, with more than one glass of scotch already under his belt. He sets it on the desk, diamonds facing away from him, but even from that angle, he can see the way the dim light catches the many angular facets, taunting him with their brightly shimmering reflections.

"Oh, Richard," she laments, reaches out to cradle his hand with both of hers. "I'm sorry, kiddo."

He shakes his head, feels a tear roll down his cheek.

"So it's over then?" Martha asks sadly, pausing a moment and allowing her son a chance to compose himself.

"I don't know," he answers, but even he can hear the hollowness in his voice. "It might as well be."

"But you don't even know if she's taking the job."

"I don't see why she wouldn't."

"She has a family here, Richard," his mother emphasizes. "Friends, colleagues. _You_."

"That didn't seem to matter when she interviewed," he grouses resentfully.

"She didn't actually have to make a decision at that point."

He stands, the chair scraping harshly across the floor, his hand jerking out of her grasp. "As far as I'm concerned, she made her decision when she got on that plane without telling me."

"Did you ever think to ask her _why _she didn't tell you?" his mother asks evenly, exuding a sense of surety and calm that he's not sure he'll ever feel again.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"I think it does," Martha jumps in, quick to turn things around, to knock some sense into him before it's too late. It's obvious that the two of them are meant for each other. Everyone can see it, except maybe for them. They just need to bite back their stubbornness and pride and work things out. "Because from the sounds of it, there was a lot more that _wasn't_ said than what _was_."

Castle shakes his head, sinks back into his desk chair with a defeated flop.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe you missed something?" Martha continues. "That maybe there's a _reason _she said no - one that doesn't equate to her not wanting to get married?"

He sighs heavily, reaches out to finger the ring. "She didn't actually say no."

If Martha is shocked by this confession, she covers it well. "Then what _was_ her answer?"

"Not now," he repeats, still hearing Kate's words in his head, burned into his brain on a never-ending loop.

_I'm not saying no. I'm saying...not now._

"Did you ask her why she chose to answer in such a manner?" Martha asks again, already knowing what his response will be.

Castle says nothing, eyes fixed firmly on the desk, on the ring that he'd hoped would adorn Kate's finger for the rest of their lives.

"Talk to her," she encourages with a pat to his hand. "If nothing else, that girl loves you, Richard."

He scoffs at his mother's assessment. "Right."

"You're hurt," she laments. "I understand that. And you have every right to be. But give her a chance to make things right."

Castle shakes his head, not sure he wants to bother. What good are more excuses and empty apologies at this point? He'd thought they were past that.

Apparently they weren't. Aren't. Whatever.

And if they're still stuck here after all this time, how are they ever going to be able to move past this point?

In the distance, a key turns in the lock, and Alexis is at a meeting to prepare for her Costa Rica trip, so there's only one person it can possibly be. He's not sure why she's here or what she's hoping to accomplish, and he can't decide if he's angry or upset or frustrated or just plain terrified about having to face her. Probably all of the above, and he's very much not ready for this.

"Talk to her, Richard," Martha says again. "Give her a chance to explain."

With those final words of advice, she silently slips from his office, and it's an extended, tense moment as he braces himself for what's to come.

At long last, a shadow falls across the room, and Castle lifts his head slowly to find Kate leaning against the door frame. She looks exhausted and shattered and so much less confident than normal.

But the only thing that his mind latches onto is the fact that her gaze is frozen on the diamonds that sparkle back at her from the surface of his desk.

The ring that should be bringing them together.

So far, all it's done is tear them even further apart.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: I ask one thing of you before reading this chapter...please remember that this fic is far from over._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Kate stands frozen in the doorway, the diamond ring that Castle offered her just hours earlier taunting her from the surface of his desk. The desk upon which, just a week earlier, he cornered her, pressed her back against the wood, and had his way with her. The desk at which he's written the words that first made her fall in love with his writing, long before he ever knew of her existence. The desk at which he's written thousands of words of their story, offered to the world as Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook, but stemming from something much deeper, much more personal and intimate.

It's a long moment before Kate is able to tear her eyes away from the ring, the beautiful diamonds that he bought just for her. Because he wants to marry her.

She's still not sure how much of this was spur of the moment, an attempt to convince her of his feelings, and how much was actually planned out in advance, weighing on his mind since long before everything they had began to crumble at their feet.

Either way, she's pretty sure they're not ready to be married. They can't even talk about where they're headed like a normal couple. Hell, they don't ever talk about anything.

But they need to. Not just because of the job, but because of everything that's built up over the past months that's led them into this mess.

But mostly because of the engagement ring that shimmers in the dim light of the office, the multitude of tiny reflective surfaces catching in her peripheral vision despite her best attempts to avoid looking.

She forces her eyes instead to gaze upon the man before her, slumped limply in his desk chair. He's wearing sweats and a t-shirt, his hair looks as though he's spent the entire day running his hands through it in frustration, and she can tell by the slightly-glazed over look in his eyes that he's downed his fair share of scotch. He looks weary, shattered, his eyes dull and clouded with pain and anger.

Kate blinks hard, trying to hold back the wave of guilt that washes over her. Because she's the one who's done this to him. And she's the one who needs to make it right.

"Castle," she says finally, breaking the protracted, awkward silence.

He holds up a hand, avoids her pleading gaze. "Just...don't."

"Castle, please."

"Shouldn't you be packing for DC?" he asks instead, words cold and calculated.

"I never said I was going."

His heart lifts but he quashes it, suppresses any feelings that are even remotely hopeful. He's angry at her, so angry. And regardless of whether she takes the job, the fact still stands that she lied to him. She flew to another city, interviewed for a job, and didn't tell him. If he hadn't found the boarding pass, who knows when she would have? _If _she would have. For all he knows, she'd have just left without a word.

It's not something he can forgive easily.

"I'm sorry," Kate says when he offers no response. "I'm sorry, Castle."

"So you've said."

Apparently he's not letting her off the hook on this one, though she supposes she deserves the harsh treatment.

"I don't think I'm taking the job," she admits, stumbling a bit over the words, because her decision hasn't felt real until now, until she voices it aloud to the person who matters most. There's so much more she should say, so much more she _needs _to say, but this is the first thing she can come up with. She's no good at this talking thing, but she has to start somewhere.

To her dismay, Castle shrugs, still cold and distant and unaffected. "It's your life. Just do whatever."

"Castle." His name catches in her throat as fresh tears threaten to fall, because he's freezing her out, closing himself off from even the possibility of letting her win him back, and it hits her now in full force just how irreparably she's broken him. Broken them.

"'Please don't make this about us,'" he quotes sharply, eyes flashing sharply. "Do you have any idea how much it hurt to hear that? How much it hurts to hear the woman you love say that a decision that affects both of us _shouldn't be about us_?"

"Castle, I didn't..."

"Save it," he snaps. "Because if some part of you didn't truly believe that, the words never would have left your mouth."

She starts to speak, falters, words failing her. He's not...wrong. Not entirely. She opens her mouth again, poised to defend herself, but Castle speaks first.

"I can't keep doing this," he says harshly, swallows hard to force the words out. He hates when they fight, but he doesn't know what else to do at this point, because things can't go on like this. "I waited four years for you to be ready to jump into this and it turns out you never really jumped at all." She opens her mouth to object but he continues without allowing her a chance to speak. "You haven't, Beckett. Because if you had, we wouldn't be in this situation right now."

"Castle, you can't put this all on me," Kate snaps defensively. "I've been _here_. I've been _trying_. And every time I do, I feel like it doesn't get us anywhere."

Castle scoffs. "I'm sorry, what part of this has been you trying? Interviewing in DC without telling me? Or was it the part where you let _another man_," he snorts the name in disgust, "kiss you? Or how about all the other lies you've told trying to cover these things up? What part of that is you _trying,_ Beckett?"

"I..." she drops her head forward, hair falling to shield her eyes as tears blur her vision, spill down her cheeks. "I told you I _love_ you, Castle," she chokes out. "I planned a fake murder for you, because I hated that you were stuck at home alone and I wanted to see you smile. And then you turned me down for a video game, and blew me off when I asked you where we were headed, and..."

"Oh, so this is all on me? It's _my_ fault you let another man kiss you?" he snarls.

"No, it's not," Kate sniffs, swipes at a tear as she lifts her head to face him again, but he's not meeting her eyes. "I...I screwed up," she continues.

"You could say that again," he mutters, eyes still firmly fixed on the bottle of scotch on his desk.

"I should have asked you again," Kate admits. She's not going to take one hundred percent of the blame for the mess they're in, but she's willing to admit that there are quite a few things she should have done differently. "I should have pushed harder, I guess. But we both should have talked more, Castle."

"Maybe so," he concedes, because as much as he hates to admit it, his mother was right. He's partly to blame here. "But that doesn't give you carte blanche to lie to me, Kate."

She shakes her head. "I know. And I'm sorry."

He's right. She knows he is. And she knows she still has a long way to go if she has any hope of repairing what she's damaged.

But at least he's calling her Kate again.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I didn't have time to reply to all reviews last chapter...if I missed you, I apologize. Please know that I do appreciate hearing your thoughts._

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The silence is heavy and painful, loaded with all the things they said, all the things they should have said. It echoes off the walls, pitching through the darkness and settling like a blanket over them. It's exhausting, and Kate is just so drained; flying to DC and back, the interview, this case, fighting.

All of it.

She just wants it to be over, wants things to be better again. But if Castle doesn't want that, too...

She shakes her head, refuses to allow those thoughts to take over. There has to be _something_ she can say to get through to him. To make him understand this from her point of view. Understand why she didn't say yes, despite the fact that she wants nothing more than to marry him. Someday.

Maybe she can start from the beginning, tell him the truth this time.

"You know," she offers after a moment, hesitant, but when Castle tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement, she continues. "When Stack offered me that interview, he asked me where I saw myself in five years. And I didn't have an answer."

He lifts his head, poised to speak, though no words come out. But at least she has his attention now.

"I knew where I _wanted _to be," Kate continues, voice softening, eyes seeking his through the dim light of the office. "I just didn't know you wanted that too."

"Then why didn't you _ask_ me?" Castle challenges, frustrated.

"I..." she stops, hears Lanie's words in her mind. They need to talk, really talk. Making excuses won't get them out of this mess. "I wasn't sure I wanted to know."

He braces himself on the arms of his chair, fingers curling into fists, nails digging sharp crescent-shaped patterns into the skin of his palms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kate pauses, tosses the words around in her head, willing them to fall together in a way that makes sense but won't hurt him any more than she already has. "I want us to be serious, Castle. But...you've been married twice, and I didn't think you'd want that again."

"So you decided to get a job elsewhere and then it wouldn't matter?" he snarls. "Then you could just run away from us, and you'd never have to find out?"

"No, I..." she grinds to a halt, her father's words playing through her head. She's not afraid, and she's certainly not running. She's just...branching out, expanding her horizons. Taking advantage of the chance to move up, to be more. She's doing what she's always wanted. At least, that's what she's been telling herself.

But is that really what it is?

The job in DC is safe. It's guaranteed to be a good opportunity, it would keep her busy, keep her mind off of what she'd be leaving behind. She'd miss Castle, sure, but it's not like she'd have time for a relationship anyway. It's a convenient excuse to duck out now rather than face whatever reality might lie ahead for them. A reality that, regardless of which version actually plays out, scares her.

She's not running.

Except, she kind of is. Was.

Not anymore.

"Okay, yes, I guess you're right," she admits, and the words hurt rolling off of her tongue, but they hurt even more as she watches their meaning play across Castle's features, clouding his eyes, deepening the lines that crease his brow and the corners of his mouth.

"If you don't want this anymore, just tell me," he demands.

"That's not..."

"I can't..."

"Castle, I want to marry you," she blurts, and it's clumsy and out of place and not at all what she meant to say. But it might be the most honest thing she's said to him all week.

"Right," he agrees sarcastically.

"Castle..." She pushes off the doorframe with her shoulder, falls back against it as his next words strike home.

"Someone who wants to get married doesn't turn down a proposal."

"I didn't say never, Castle," she pleads, unfolding her arms and gesturing towards him, willing him to understand.

"You might as well have."

"Are you...now you _don't _want us to get married?" she chokes out, confused and heartbroken and so tangled up in all of this that she doesn't know which way is up anymore.

"You don't think I was serious?" he asks sternly.

"I...I don't know what to think anymore," Kate admits tiredly, curling in on herself as she fights to remain upright against the sharp ache that's coiling through her veins.

"I asked you because that's what I wanted," Castle answers, and she's not sure what hurts worse; the truth in his words that she's so staunchly refused to accept, or the fact that he's speaking in past tense.

"But what about everything else?"

"I already told you that it doesn't matter to me, Kate."

"But it _needs_ to," she counters once again, because apparently he didn't take her words to heart when she said this before. "If we want to give ourselves a fighting chance, it needs to matter, Castle. We need to be able to talk and we need to be able to trust each other."

"Well you should have thought of that before you kept things from me."

The silence is harsh, but short-lived.

"I should have," she admits, not bothering to feel offended or angered by his words, because she knows he's right. "And I'm sorry for doubting you and for not being honest with you." She thinks she sees him soften a bit, persists. "But that's why we can't do this yet, Castle. We need to _fix_ this so it doesn't happen again. Because a ring won't just magically make all of this go away."

"I wasn't asking you to marry me tomorrow," Castle interjects.

"I know," Kate concedes. "I know that. But we can't do it like this."

"Like what?"

She falls silent, contemplating the best way to convey her thoughts, the way she's rationalized it in her head. Because she wants him to understand that 'not yet' was in no way intended as a 'no.' They just...have some work to do first. And the mere fact that he doesn't seem to understand that is only further reaffirming her decision to answer in such a manner.

"Castle, why did you ask me?" Kate questions finally.

"Hmmm?"

Her eyes fall to the ring, lift back to his. "Why did you ask?"

He squints, confused and a bit offended that she's even questioning his motives. "Isn't it obvious?"

"I..." Kate sighs, hates that this thought even crossed her mind, but she has to know. Has to hear it from him. "If I hadn't interviewed, would you still have asked?"

Castle drops his head back, sighs heavily, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He hates this. He knows Kate's right when she says that they need to talk through all of this. He knows they have some things to work out, and he knows that communicating these things _should _bring them closer in the end. But right now, it only seems to be enlarging the rift that's formed between them, a bottomless fissure filled with so many words unspoken and issues overlooked.

"Eventually, yes," he finally answers. It's not untrue. He would have. He's wanted this for a while now. He just needed that last little push, and this ended up being the thing to provide it.

"But then I considered this job."

"I said 'whatever you decide,'" he quotes.

"I know. But the timing..."

"Wasn't great," Castle cuts in, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'll admit that. Maybe it wasn't the best time. But mother said some things that made me think, and I just...I didn't want there to be any more doubts."

Kate huffs an un-amused laugh, shakes her head at this convoluted mess they've managed to create. He may have just obliterated the most deep-seated of all of her doubts, but in the process, he's raised a series of new ones.

Because wanting to get married and being ready to get married are two completely different things.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your continued support and encouragement :)_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"I believe you."

"What?"

"I believe you, Castle," Kate admits after a moment. "No more doubts about where we stand. But..."

"But what?"

"You didn't have to..." she gestures towards the ring, "you could have just asked me to stay."

"I don't want you to stay," Castle clarifies, eyes dipping, flicking back up to hers again. "I want you to do whatever will make you happy. And I'd go with you, Kate, whatever you decide. I just wanted you to consider _us_ when you made your decision."

She nods slowly, apologetically. Because yes, leaving him in the dark was horribly selfish, and she sees now that no matter the reasons she justified it in her head, it was the wrong course of action. "I've never had to do something like this before, Castle," she confesses eventually. Not an excuse, though, because she knows that nothing will ever excuse what she did.

"Like what?"

"Think about...things like this."

"You mean me." It's not a question.

"Anyone, really," Kate admits. "I've never been in a relationship where it mattered so much. Obviously..." she shakes her head, trails off, so upset with herself.

"You know, I would have gone with you," Castle admits, and it's the softest he's been in days.

"Would have?"

"To the interview."

"Castle..."

"If you'd told me, I would have been there," he continues. "I'd have supported you. Because it's a damn good opportunity, and you deserve that job."

"You really think I should take it, don't you?" she inquires, stunned by his confidence in her even in the face of her lies.

"I think you'd be crazy to turn it down. It sounds impressive."

"Impressive isn't everything," Kate counters. She's done a lot of introspection, given a lot of consideration to the matter today. And while a few years back, she would have jumped at this opportunity, there's so much more to consider now. Family, friends, _Castle._

"You'd really move there with me?" she asks, can't help herself. Because after everything she's put him through recently, she can't believe he'd still do that for her. She's so unworthy of all of this.

"Whatever you decide," he quotes again.

She shakes her head. "What about your family?"

Castle shrugs. "I could go back and forth. I'd keep the loft, come back and visit every couple of weeks."

She gapes at him.

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't serious, Kate."

"I know," she whispers, so choked up, so in awe of this man and how much he loves her, despite her faults, despite the numerous mistakes she's made and all the ways she's hurt him.

"I'm...I don't know where we stand now," he admits after a moment, and she feels a stab of pain shoot through her chest, because she's done this to him. "But I don't regret asking you, and my promise still stands."

"Castle..."

"If DC is what you want..."

"I'm not taking the job," she interrupts.

They fall into silence, gazes locked unwaveringly across the room, each challenging the other to protest, to fight this decision or change their mind.

"Is this because of me?" he asks eventually.

"I..." Kate sighs. "I admit, that has something to do with it."

Castle shakes his head. "Don't turn it down because of me."

"Castle..."

"No," he presses. "I don't want you to give this up and end up resenting me."

"I won't," she promises resolutely. Her father was the one to first speak the words, the one to suggest even the mere possibility of it. But she knows now, with certainty, that she won't resent Castle over this. Because no matter the opportunity, no matter the resources and the prestige and everything else that comes along with this job in DC, it won't ever compare to the future that she now sees laid out before her.

It never could.

She's lived for the job for so long now, lost so many years of her life tied up in her work.

Now, it's time to truly live her life. With Castle.

* * *

"So, what happens how?"

Castle shrugs.

"We're still..." she gestures between them.

"I think so."

"You still want us to be, right?" she asks, so feeble and insecure, and the hesitance in her voice breaks his heart despite the fact that he's still upset with her, still nursing his bruised ego.

"Yes," he answers automatically. Things aren't going to magically fix themselves, and it's going to take some time to get to where they need to be. And though there's still a giant rift between them, a breach of trust that needs to be healed, he has no intention of walking away from them if she's truly serious about fixing this. Fixing them.

"If you..." she prevaricates, "If you need time or space..."

He lifts his head sharply, taken by surprise.

"I mean, I understand," Kate continues. "I can...I should probably go."

"You can stay," he exclaims, the words escaping without permission. "I mean..."

They both fall into an awkward silence. They're not exactly fighting anymore, but they're not really _not _fighting either. He's still upset with her, and the childish part of him still wants to keep his distance, make her wait like he's waited for her. But it's been so long since they've been together.

Kate wavers, eyes flicking to his bedroom, back to Castle, back to the bedroom again. She's pretty sure that the moment she crawls into bed with him, they'll descend into a flurry of naked passion. And she wants him, _needs _him. Gosh, it's been almost a week. But I'm-still-angry-at-you sex won't solve any of their issues. If anything, it will only serve to plunge them back into their cycle of not talking about things.

And that won't do.

She doesn't want to run, though. Doesn't want to give him the impression that she's still unsure, that she's still not committed.

"I should go," she repeats. "I think we both could use some time."

Castle hesitates, wavering back and forth. There's been so much space between them lately, and the last thing he wants is more. But they've also talked, _really talked, _for the first time today, and he doesn't want to risk upsetting the delicate balance they seem to have reached.

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm not running," she promises. "I'll call you in the morning. And we can take it from there?"

He nods, and though he doesn't seem completely convinced, maybe by tomorrow, he'll be a little bit closer. She sees now just how deeply her decisions have cut, how noticeably this is going to scar. But it will fade with time, just like the puckered marks that mar her skin, and it won't ever be the same again, but eventually it will be close. And she's not going to stop fighting for this until that happens.

"I promise, Castle," she pleads. "I know that probably doesn't mean much, but..."

Hopefully someday it will. He sees the steely determination in her eyes, the fierceness with which she's resolved to fix this, put them back together again. It's going to take more than words to do this. It'll take action, it'll take perseverance for him to truly believe that she's serious about this. About making them work.

It'll take time.

But at least this is a place to start.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: I'm afraid a mass thank you for the reviews will have to suffice this time. It's been a busy week. I promise to catch up on individual replies this weekend._

* * *

**Chapter 7**

"So when do you leave?"

Her gaze falters, eyes fixing steadily on the mug cradled in her hand, the dark brown liquid steaming inside the ceramic dish.

"Katie?"

She shakes her head, steels her resolve before lifting her head again. "I'm not going."

"What?"

"I'm not taking the job," she says again, a little more forcefully this time. She still hasn't made the call – she has twenty-four more hours to officially decide – but her mind is already made up.

Jim raises an eyebrow, and she can see from his expression that he's onto her, his paternal senses seeing right through her nondescript answer. As usual.

He doesn't even have to say anything, and the words spill from her mouth. "I'm not...Castle...we..." she stammers, unsure of where to start, of how to even begin to explain everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours. She can't believe it's been just a day since she last sat across from her father, here at this very same table, and confessed that this job was what she wanted.

She now realizes that it couldn't have been further from the truth.

"He proposed," she admits softly. Jim's eyes immediately seek out her left hand, wrapped snugly around the coffee mug. "We're not...we're not engaged," she explains quickly.

"Why not?"

She splutters, nearly chokes on her muffin.

"He loves you, Katie. And I know you love him..."

"Dad..."

"And the two of you..."

"Dad," she interrupts, more forcefully this time.

He stutters to a halt, a silent question in his eyes.

"It wasn't the right time," she offers. It's a weak explanation, but at least it's something.

"And yet you're not taking the job, which tells me something else is going on here," he prompts knowingly.

"I was wrong," Kate admits with a shake of her head. "I wanted the job. It's a good opportunity, and I'm honored that they offered it to me. But..." she pauses, slowly sips from her mug. "I have a job here. And I have great partners, and friends, and you," she emphasizes.

"And Castle," Jim adds smugly, and she wants to roll her eyes.

"Castle said he'd go with me," she confesses softly, still in awe of his offer.

"I don't doubt it," Jim agrees.

"But it wouldn't be the same," Kate continues.

"So you're staying," her father reiterates, continues at her nod, "but you're not engaged?"

"Not yet," she corrects, the words slipping out unintentionally.

That earns her another quirked eyebrow.

"We...have a lot to work out still," Kate admits. "But we'll get there."

"He's a good man, Katie."

"I know," she murmurs.

"And he's good for you."

She nods, knows her father is right. Castle's done more for her than she could ever imagine.

"I'm proud of you," Jim continues, and she lifts her eyes to his in surprise. "For choosing to stay."

Kate nods once, eyes closing in shame as everything that he's _not _saying washes over her. Because maybe _now _she's decided to stay, but it took seduction by a wealthy businessman and lies and a kick in the ass from both her best friend _and_ her father for her to stop running and stand and face her fears. It took breaking the heart of the man she loves and very nearly ruining everything they've built for her to understand what she was about to throw away.

But she didn't, and she's here, and no matter what it takes, she's determined to fix this. To fix them.

Jim sits back against the booth, intrigued by this version of his daughter that's shown up here today. So confident and sure and placing her life above a job. It's the complete opposite of yesterday, and though he has his theories, he remains silent, opting for unobtrusive observation rather than probing questions.

Because in the end, it doesn't really matter _what_ changed her mind. He's just happy that something did.

* * *

She finds him at his desk late in the afternoon, feet propped up, laptop balanced on his thighs. She's not sure if he's writing Nikki or something else, doesn't feel like she even has the right to ask at this point. It takes him a moment to register her presence, finish his train of thought, but he lifts his eyes to her after a couple minutes.

"Hey," she offers tentatively, settling back against the door frame once again. She's uncomfortably far away from him, but even this feels wrong. As though she no longer deserves to even set foot in his office. His safe haven.

"Hey."

"Writing?" she states, though it's blatantly obvious, pointless small talk, but she's not used to showing up at the loft and not greeting him with a kiss. But they're not really...doing that...right now, so she doesn't know what to say. It's awkward. It's so awkward. And she has no idea how to overcome this.

Castle shrugs in a silent reply.

"I talked to my dad," Kate offers finally, settling on what should be a fairly neutral topic. Or, at least, one that will eventually guide them into conversation, because the list of things they need to talk about is still a mile long.

Castle's head snaps up in panic, because it never even occurred to him to talk to Jim before proposing to his daughter. "Did you tell him about..."

"Relax. He's not upset," she says hastily. "Well, maybe at me. But not at you."

He breathes a sigh of relief.

"He likes you, Castle," Kate assures him. "He thinks you're good for me."

"Well if you're only staying because he thinks you should..."

"I'm not," she interjects sharply, irritated by the sudden change in the tone of his voice, the implications of his words. And the fact that he still doesn't believe her. "I'm staying because this is what I want."

Castle scoffs, sets his laptop aside with a thunk. "Right."

"Castle..."

"If you wanted to stay here, you wouldn't have applied for the job."

"I applied because I just wanted to see if..."

"I'm still having trouble understanding how you could even _do_ that to me," he rants, completely ignoring her words. "I understand why the job appealed to you. What I don't understand is why you hid it from me. Even if we'd only been together for a couple months, I'd think you'd at least _tell_ me. But it's been almost a _year_, Kate. Do I really mean that little to you?"

"I _love_ you," she shouts angrily, frustrated that they're back to this, back to yelling and screaming and strings of hurtful words.

"Of course."

She deflates almost instantly, anger fading into pure anguish as the reality of this realization takes hold.

"You don't believe me," she states, and the stricken look that crosses her face is almost enough to break his heart. Almost. But he's still far too upset for empathy.

"You flew to another city to interview for a job without telling me," he outlines harshly.

"Castle..."

"You _kissed_ another _man,_" he continues, on a roll now. "So no, I don't believe you."

She falters, tears filling her eyes, words completely deserting her. Because if he doesn't even believe that she loves him, then how is there any hope of fixing this?

Hell, she thought they'd already dealt with all of this. He'd accepted her apologies. He'd said he still wanted them to be together. But if he doesn't trust her at all, how could he even say that?

"Is this how you felt when you married Meredith?" Kate asks suddenly, the question catching both of them off-guard.

"What?"

"Is this how you felt when you got married before?" she repeats, more confidently this time.

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Because you proposed to me, Castle, and yet you just admitted that you don't trust me. But if you don't trust me, then how can you want to marry me?"

"Because I love you," he answers, and Kate can't help but recall the last time he spoke those words, because his voice now is laced with the same desperation. "I can't imagine my life without you. I just...I'd hoped..." Castle shakes his head.

He thought he had this all figured out. He loves her. He's loved her for so long now that he can't even recall exactly when he started feeling that way. And he wants to be with her, no matter what. He can't picture his life any other way.

He thought that was enough.

Apparently he thought wrong.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: Huge thank you as always to Andy for being such a fabulously encouraging beta/cheerleader._

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"You know, you still didn't answer my question," Kate prompts after a bit.

"What question."

"About Meredith."

"Because it's not relevant," he deflects instantly.

"Yes it is," she presses.

Castle shakes his head.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Deflecting."

"I'm n..."

"Every time I ask you something like this, you change the subject."

"I d..."

"Yes, you do," she interrupts sharply. "In fact, Meredith said the same thing about you."

"What?" he hisses, voice low and seething.

Kate freezes, brain catching up with her mouth, with the words she just spoke, and she instantly wishes she could take them back. She's not particularly proud of it, but ever since the woman's parting words, she's been stuck on the apparent truth of Meredith's statement.

Castle stands, rising angrily from his chair, and Kate nearly takes a step back at the venomous flash of rage that darkens his eyes. "I'm sorry. You asked my ex-wife about me?"

"I wanted to know why you split up," she blurts.

"So you asked _her_?"

"I..."

"You didn't bother to ask _me_?"

"I..."

Castle clenches his fists, and she wisely trails off.

"What did she tell you?"

"That she felt like she didn't know you," Kate recalls honestly. "That you knew all about her, but every time she tried to get to know you, you changed the subject."

He sighs, posture relaxing slightly, but his voice is quiet now, roiling with anger and disappointment. "True, she didn't really know me. But she also never bothered to ask," he recounts. "I suppose she was too busy getting intimately acquainted with her director."

"What?" Kate splutters.

"Oh, you mean she didn't bother to mention that?"

"Castle..."

He holds up a hand, halting her pending explanation. "Is this really what this is all about?" he asks angrily.

"Is this what what's about?"

"All of this," he gestures angrily. "Is it because of something _Meredith_ said?"

"Well, she's not wrong," Kate points out. "You say you've had to scratch and claw, but you're not exactly an open book."

"I never made it a secret that I had feelings for you."

"That's not what I meant."

Castle falls silent.

"I've known you for five years," Kate speaks softly after a moment. "And yet I didn't know until just now why you and Meredith divorced."

"You never asked."

She shakes her head. "No. I didn't. And that's on me. But my point is, there's a lot that we never talk about, Castle."

"So talk," he suggests with an airy shrug. "What do you want to know?"

"It's not something that can be done in one conversation."

"Then we do it more than once."

She advances into the room. "Castle, I'm serious."

"So am I," he counters earnestly.

Kate pauses, searches his eyes, finding only honesty. "Okay, fine," she articulates slowly. "Why did you and Meredith split up? Your side of the story."

Castle sighs, sinks back into his chair. He closes his eyes, and it's a long moment before they open again. And even as he prepares to speak, to open up to her, Kate can see the walls being erected, the way he's retracting, protecting himself from the memories he's about to divulge.

"I was twenty-two when she got pregnant," he begins, voice empty, detached. "We hadn't been together that long and we weren't even close to ready to be parents. But I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted our kid to grow up in a family. So I proposed and we got married." He shakes his head. "I'd always wanted kids, and Meredith said she did too...until she realized what it entailed. She was more interested in her career and her social life than in changing diapers, so that fell on me. I guess me being a stay-at-home dad wasn't exciting enough for her." He runs both hands over his face, drops them back to his lap. "I'd taken Alexis to the park one evening, and when we came home, Meredith was in our bed with her director."

"I'm so sorry," Kate whispers sympathetically.

"She kicked him out," he admits, barely acknowledging her words, pushing through the memory as emotionlessly as possible. "Said she was sorry. I can forgive a lot of things, but cheating isn't one of them."

And then Kate had gone and let Eric Vaughn kiss her. No wonder Castle didn't trust her.

"I never knew that," she confesses quietly.

"Well, now you do." He says it with an offhanded shrug of one shoulder, as though it didn't just cost him a lot to tell her this. But Kate can see right through it, can see the pain that dulls his eyes. She wants to wrap her arms around him, hold him tightly, take away the ache like he's always been able to do for her. She wants to hug him, kiss him, promise him that she'll never cheat on him, though she supposes those words would be nothing more than an empty promise at this point.

Instead, she leans back against the bookshelf, smiles wanly. "Thank you for telling me."

He shrugs again, hums in response.

* * *

"I guess it should go both ways, right?" Kate asks after a few minutes.

Castle lifts his head, dragging his gaze up to her. She's still propped against the bookshelf, arms folded over her chest, one leg crossed over the other.

"What should?" he finally manages, forcing himself from the depressing vortex of memories into which he'd descended.

"The questions," she replies tentatively, not wanting to push him. "If you want, I mean."

There's a long pause, and she can see him sifting through his thoughts, warring some kind of internal debate. Like he's unsure of what to ask. Or unsure if he actually wants to know the answer. She knows the feeling.

"Why did you hide the interview from me?" Castle asks eventually, and she should have expected it, but the question catches her completely off-guard.

Kate opens her mouth, closes it again as she fights to find the words, eventually settling for, "I don't know." She shakes her head, so dissatisfied with herself. "I didn't think I'd get the job, so I figured it wouldn't matter. And I thought...I thought you'd be upset," she admits.

"Why would I be upset with you for wanting to move up the ladder?"

"Because it wasn't in New York," she says feebly. "Because it would have meant moving and long hours and you not being my partner."

"That's not the end of the world," Castle remarks, desperate to understand her reasoning and for her to understand his. "Not being your partner...I'd miss it. But as long as I still got to _be _with you..."

"I didn't think you'd see it that way," she admits. "I thought you'd see it as me...wanting to leave you."

"So you decided to hide it altogether?" he demands, the edges of his anger flaring up again. "Why? To ensure that you could make me feel like we," he gesticulates rapidly between them, "aren't important at all?"

"That wasn't..."

"Because you did a damn good job of it."

She drops her head back against the shelves, hands falling to her sides in defeat. "I'm sorry."

It's inadequate. Hell, most of what she's done in the last month has been inadequate. She's made mistake after mistake, and she doesn't even deserve to be here in his loft right now.

"I'm so sorry."

Still no reply.

Maybe if she comes at this from a different angle. "You _are _important to me, Castle. _We _are. I...I guess I lost sight of that for a while. But that's why I'm here and not in DC. Because you're more important."

He softens visibly at that, the cloud of pain behind his eyes lifting slightly, the line of his jaw relaxing a bit. She waits him out, heart hammering in her chest, anxious, nervous, dreading his reply. Words have never been her strong point, but she hopes the few she's managed are sufficient, at least for now.

"I'm still mad," he says after a minute.

"I know," Kate answers, feels the first wave of relief wash over her.

Because he should be mad. If they're _really doing this,_ they need to start holding themselves and each other accountable for their success. Beginning today.

"I'm really sorry," she murmurs again after a minute, and though the words seem so pedestrian, so laughably insufficient, she doesn't know how else to get this across to him. She screwed up, and she knows she screwed up. She's been beating herself up for it for the last few days. And she knows she has no right to ask for his forgiveness, for him to magically begin to trust her again, but she wants to anyway.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way.

But maybe that's a good thing. Because if this is going to last, they need to put in the work to fix it, patch themselves up and become stronger than they were before. They need to fight these battles and navigate their way through the maze.

They need to learn how to do this, because it's no longer an 'if.' It's a 'when.' And _when_ they get married, they owe it to themselves to do it right.

"Castle," Kate calls softly, but his eyes are downcast once again, finger tracing the platinum band that still taunts them from the mahogany surface of his desk. The band that should adorn her finger.

And it will, soon. It won't be easy, and she has a lot of making up to do, but she's not giving up. It's her turn to be the one to fight for them.

When he still doesn't react, she allows her gaze to fall to his finger, to the delicate cluster of diamonds, the way he's tracing their outline almost reverently. Kate extends her left ring finger, can't help but picture what the ring might look like fitted snugly at the base of the digit. She's never been much of one to daydream about diamonds and white dresses and fairytale weddings, but now that the ring is there, now that this is _almost_ real, she can't help herself.

She wants to have it on her finger. She wants that promise, that commitment, that forever.

But she can't have that. Not yet. Not until they can talk it out and learn trust each other again. Today was a start. They're still rocky at best, and there's still a lot that hangs between them. But this is a start, and at least they've reached a temporary understanding now.

"We'll get there," Kate murmurs, a soft but sure promise, almost as though she's reading his mind. And maybe she _can _read him, _can_ sense the fears and insecurities. Maybe she knows him better than he gives her credit for sometimes. "We'll get there, Castle," she repeats. "Just..."

"Not yet," he says softly, everything beginning to fall into place in his mind.

"Not yet," she echoes.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: To those of you whose reviews I didn't have a chance to reply to, thank you. And thank you everyone for your continued support._

* * *

**Chapter 9**

"So...now what?"

Castle shrugs, finally allowing his hand to drift away from the ring. "I don't know."

"We just...talk?" she asks with a half-shrug, unsure of how to handle this, where to go from here. "Is that...enough?"

He shrugs again, similarly clueless as to how to navigate their way through this situation. He's never really had to do this before, never bothered to actually resolve the fights. With Meredith, he had no interest in allowing her to apologize her way back in. With Gina, he's not sure they ever actually fixed anything, instead allowing it to fester and build until fighting was all they knew, all that was left between them.

But with Kate, he doesn't want that to happen. The sting of her lie, her semi-rejection of his proposal, is deeply embedded, and it's not something that's simply going to vanish after a couple apologies and a bout of makeup sex. It's going to take time and effort and probably more pain along the way. But despite it all, he still loves her. He still wants to see that ring on her finger, wants to believe without a doubt that she's as committed to him as he is to her. He wants it all, and he's willing to give her the chance to prove that she does too, that what she's said yesterday and today is true.

He's just not sure how they're going to get there.

"I've never done this before," Kate admits after a moment, taking the words right out of his mouth.

"Done what?"

"Fought like this. Or made it to the other side."

"Neither have I," he concedes.

"But I don't want that to happen to us," she continues, voice weak and trembling. "I don't want us to..." she shakes her head sadly, "I don't want to lose you."

He doesn't answer, doesn't even know what to say to that.

"Can we...make an agreement?" Kate hedges.

Castle fixes her with his gaze.

"We call each other out," she proposes. "And push harder."

"Push harder how?"

"To actually talk," she suggests. It's a lot to ask, and she doesn't foresee it going smoothly. Not at all. But she also knows that it's something that needs to happen. "To get to know each other."

"You've known me for five years."

She shakes her head. "I don't mean it like that. I mean know as in, shouldn't we know what we want for the future?" she questions. "Shouldn't we know where we see our careers going? Or whether we want to stay in Manhattan? Or whether we want kids? Because those things...those can be deal-breakers, Castle."

"I want to be with you," he counters without even stopping to think. "I can write from anywhere. I just want to be with you. And if you want kids...I'd love to be a father again. If not," he shrugs. "I have Alexis."

"Castle, that's not...I don't..." Kate trips over the words, pauses to regroup. "I've asked you to do this at my pace for so long now. And it means so much to me that you did, and that you waited for me." She shakes her head regretfully. "But...just like you didn't want me to turn down the job just to stay here with you, I don't want you to give up your dreams for the future just to be with me."

"But I'm serious, Kate. I can write from anywhere as long as I have my laptop..."

"Castle."

"And when I look into the future, I see us..."

"Rick," she interrupts again, more steadfastly this time.

He stumbles to a halt. "What?"

"Where do you see yourself in five or ten years?"

"I just sa..."

"Not the answer you think I want to hear," she demands sternly. "I want your real answer."

Castle readjusts in his chair, takes his time concocting his reply. "With you," he begins, opting to start with what should be obvious at this point. "Married. Maybe a kid or two running around, if that's what you want. Hopefully still writing Nikki Heat."

Kate nods as the words rush over her, and it shouldn't surprise her, really, to know this about him. And yet, it does. Because it's the first time they've had a conversation this _real_ about their future. And it's terrifyingly easy and completely overwhelming all at the same time.

"And now you're panicking," he adds.

"No," she says hastily. "I'm not. I just...I don't know if I want kids."

"Well, what do you want?" he presses, doing as she asked, holding her accountable.

"I want...to be married," Kate admits unsteadily, because up until recently, she hadn't even given any of this much thought, and now she's having this conversation with _Castle,_ and...she trails off, shakes her head. "I don't know," she says at last, the words slipping out on a near-silent exhale.

"You don't know what you want?" Castle clarifies, things beginning to fall into place now. The reasons for all of her hesitation, her answer yesterday.

"No, no I...do," she explains hurriedly. "And I've always thought...I never wanted...but I do, Castle," she stammers clumsily, the words feeling so foreign as they roll off her tongue. Because she's never wanted this before now. Before him. "I want to marry you. And I see myself maybe becoming captain someday. Or a lieutenant." She shakes her head again, "I thought I wanted more than working here in the city, at the Twelfth, and maybe I still will someday. But that place is my home, Castle. And I can't imagine leaving."

"But you're not sure about kids," he repeats, just to be sure.

"Is that..." Kate closes her eyes against the pain, the words she's sure are coming.

"It's okay." She snaps her head up, eyes wide. "Being a father...it's the best thing I've ever done," Castle continues, features alight with memories. "And I'd love to do it all over again. But, Kate...I have Alexis. I was serious when I said that before. It's not a deal-breaker for me."

She breathes a sigh of relief, her heart unclenching in her chest, and only now does she realize just how important all of this is to her. How completely thankful she is to know that their ideal futures don't clash, that they could be melded together fairly easily.

She never thought it could matter this much. But it does.

She also never thought it would terrify her so much. But her heart is racing in her chest and her whole body feels shaky, and if just thinking about the future has her this twisted up, how is she ever supposed to actually live through it?

Kate doesn't know how much time has passed when Castle's words break through her troubled thoughts. "Why is this scaring you so much?"

She closes her eyes, drops her chin to her chest. It shouldn't surprise her that he could tell, that he could hear the tremors in her voice and read the edges of panic brimming in her eyes. But she thought she was doing a decent job of hiding it.

"Because I've never had to do this before."

"Talk about the future?"

"_Think_ about it," she admits, forcing her eyes up to his even though it goes against every instinct she has. "I was a detective, and I had a case to solve. And that's what I wanted."

"You can have more than that, Kate."

"I know," she acknowledges. "Now, at least. And I want that."

"Say the word..."

"I know," Kate repeats, though she's still not convinced it really can be that easy. "I know, Castle."

He nods, seemingly at ease, at least for now.

"I'm sorry," Kate says after a long moment. It feels like the millionth time she's said the words in the last two days, and yet it still doesn't feel like she's said them enough.

She's not sure she can ever say them enough.

"For what?" Castle asks, and her heart leaps, because it's the first apology of hers that he's actually acknowledged since this whole mess started.

Kate drops her head sadly, crossing her arms more tightly across her chest. "Asking so much of you," she says after a minute. "Being so selfish. Taking so long to figure out how to do this."

Silence falls as he digests her words, and Kate wiggles her foot back and forth apprehensively, nervously awaiting his reply. The quiet drags on and on, her level of panic rising with each passing second, until she wants to reach out and shake him, force a response from his mouth.

"Promise me something," he says after an extended minute.

She tilts her head.

"Let me help you," Castle offers. "I've been divorced twice, Kate. I don't know how to do this either."

Kate nods, the edges of a smile spreading across her face, hope blossoming in her chest. He still hasn't accepted her apology, per se. And she still has a lot more making up to do. But it's a start, a promise to work through this as a couple.

And it's the lightest her heart has felt in days.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Thank you so much to Andy for helping me put little snippets of conversation into an order that makes an actual chapter. I couldn't have done it without you!_

* * *

**Chapter 10**

With another conversation under their belts, Kate feels more relaxed, her world beginning to right itself again after an entire week off-kilter. They're getting better at this already, and while she's not naïve enough to think that it's over, she's at least beginning to see some sort of a light at the end of the tunnel.

They can do this.

But first, she needs to make it official. And really, there's no point in putting it off any more, because her mind is completely made up.

Kate extracts her phone from her pocket, holds it up as a means of excusing herself. "I need to call DC."

She sees the instant change in Castle's eyes, something between panic and confusion flashing behind the brilliant blue.

"What?"

"I thought you already had."

She shakes her head. "I have until tomorrow."

"You're absolutely sure?" he asks, can't help himself, because despite all the trouble it's caused, he's worked with her long enough to know that she would kick ass in DC. She's good at her job, but he thinks she could be even better there. And he'll be right by her side every step of the way, provided that she's re-prioritized things a bit and realized that she can have both, that he truly doesn't mind going with her as long as she promises to keep working on this, on _them_, and putting them first.

"Castle..."

"Because I was serious about going with you..."

"Castle..."

"And it's a great opportu..."

"Rick." He grinds to a halt, finds her gazing at him, her eyes clear and determined. "I'm not taking the job. I belong at the Twelfth. I love it there." She steps closer, offers a gentle smile. "And I have a pretty amazing partner."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, for Castle to sit back and accept her decision, and she finds herself wishing her words had had more of an impact, that they had at least been able to impart a smile. Clearly she still has her work cut out for her.

But all she gets in reply is an, "Okay. If you're sure."

"I am." She swipes her finger across the screen, begins to dial the DC number.

This is it. This is the moment she takes a step into the future that's been slowly coalescing in her mind these last two days. The one that's been gradually unfolding for the last five years. The one that, if she's completely honest with herself, she wants more than any job.

Kate steps out of the office to make the call, leaving Castle alone in his desk chair. He sighs, leans back, drops his head back as he runs his hands over his face. He's drained, thoroughly exhausted. His entire life feels like it's been uprooted in a matter of a few days, and he's not sure how to regain any semblance of stability, despite the fact that he still has a girlfriend and he's not moving to another city.

But Kate is here, when she could be packing for DC. She's fighting for them, when she could have just given up. And she's staying, when it would have been very easy to just walk away.

At that thought, he feels some small part of his life slide back into place.

* * *

While she's on the phone, Castle orders take-out, his stomach grumbling into the silence of his office. He hasn't been the best about health or hygiene these last two days but apparently it's catching up with him now. He should probably shower too. And do laundry and change the sheets and everything else he's neglected.

He's not exactly sure what part of his subconscious possesses him to order more than enough food for two people, but he's already placed the order, so he decides he may as well extend Kate the offer of dinner. The distance was necessary at first, but now it's just becoming irritating. Because he can pretend all he wants that he still wants to mope and sulk and lick his wounds in private, but the truth is exactly the opposite. Even though things are still a bit uneasy, he wants her here.

When Kate reappears, he's in the living room, rearranging pillows on the sofa and clearing aside space on the coffee table, hoping it will entice her into accepting his offer.

"Dinner?" she asks automatically, and maybe he's not going to have to try as hard as he thought to convince her to stay.

"I ordered take-out," Castle answers, setting aside a stack of magazines and mail. "If you want, I mean," he adds awkwardly at the last minute.

She shrugs, seems to take his offer at face value. "Sure."

The food arrives shortly, and Castle answers the door while Kate moves about his kitchen, pulling wine glasses from the cupboard and silverware from the drawer. He sets the food on the table, freezes as he looks up to see her moving about the space, the way she knows where everything is, how at home she looks here.

He can't help but wonder if she feels it too, or if it's all just a figment of his imagination.

It's uncomfortable at first when they settle into the sofa, far too much space between them. They both reach for the same container, both jerk back, and there's none of the normal laughter, no eating out of the same containers or feeding each other delicious bites of food. The conversation is stilted as well, consisting mostly of 'could you pass me the egg rolls,' and 'may I have a napkin,' interspersed with unnatural silences.

Castle cracks first, gets them plates and serving utensils, and they take turns scooping helpings of food onto their dishes, thereby removing the need to share containers of food and eat from each other's chopsticks.

And that seems to do the trick, because they settle into conversation then, Kate filling him in on the rest of the case, Castle touching a bit on Nikki Heat, the rough draft of the two chapters he's working on. They wind up talking for nearly two hours, a few smiles and laughs making their way into the mix as the evening wears on. It's the most normal things have been in days, and if it weren't for the giant space between them, both physically and emotionally, he'd almost be able to forget everything that's happened.

When they finally stand, Kate automatically begins collecting the dishes, cleans up the kitchen while Castle disposes of the empty containers. She's wiping down the counters when he returns, as though it's the most natural thing in the world. As though she belongs here.

And she does. He noticed long before they even started dating how comfortable she always seemed in his loft, how effortlessly she fit in to his space. He's missed having her here over the last week. He's missed it a lot. And he's not sure he realized how much until just now.

Castle hovers by the sofa, torn between bursting into the kitchen and asking her to move in or settling back into the couch and suppressing the thought. He's pretty sure asking her to move in two days after she made it very clear that she thinks they're not ready to get married wouldn't be a good idea. He doesn't foresee that conversation going well. But he's also tired of them being apart. Yes, they fought. Yes, they have a lot to work out still. But he doesn't want them to spend every moment apart until they've smoothed things over. Rushing back into things and trying to pick up where they left off probably isn't a smart option, but neither is walking on eggshells until everything is back to normal.

Because the truth is, things aren't ever going to go back to normal. The words that have been said will forever prevent that, and as such, they're going to have to settle into a new normal. But they can't do that if they're not together.

"Stay," Castle blurts suddenly, stepping into the kitchen just as she finishes wiping down the sink.

"What?"

"Stay," he repeats, more hesitantly this time.

"You mean...tonight?"

Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. But for now, he'll settle for one step at a time.

"Tonight."

She squeezes the water out of the sponge, drops it into the metal basin and dries her hands on a towel. "Okay."

It's still relatively early, but given the discomfort that preceded dinner and still lingers around the edges of the silence, Kate supposes it's best to just head to bed now. She'll have to get up early tomorrow anyway since she doesn't have any work clothes here, a product of the small amount of time she's spent at the loft recently. But she's pretty sure she left at least one pair of pajamas, and her toiletries have become a permanent fixture in the bathroom, and it strikes her now just how much of her life is at the loft. She practically already lives here.

Does that mean...when Castle asked her to stay...?

She shakes her head, pushes the thought aside, not ready to face it. Not right now, not after the way things have been between them. They haven't so much as touched each other in days. How can they possibly live together?

Hell, how are they supposed to spend the night together in the same bed?

And how did everything they were evaporate so quickly, leaving behind this bumbling, inept mess of a relationship?

Castle follows her to the bedroom, disappearing into the bathroom as she searches for pajamas, lingering in the closet as she changes her clothes, before joining him at the bathroom sink.

And suddenly it's like the morning after all over again, the awkwardness, the shyness, the way they're inching around each other, not entirely sure where they stand or what comes next.

Hell, Castle's not even sure if he should kiss her before they climb into bed.

From the way her gaze is rapidly flitting about the room, avoiding catching the reflection of his eyes in the mirror, Castle has a feeling she's wondering the exact same thing.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: Updates may be slightly less frequent the next couple weeks...I have two mini vacations coming up. But I'll do my best to not leave you hanging for too long._

* * *

**Chapter 11**

"Oh." Castle stumbles to a halt in the doorway that connects his office to the bedroom, surprised to see Kate curled up in his office chair, knees drawn to her chest, a ceramic mug of steaming liquid cradled in her left hand.

She startles, guiltily drops her other hand to her side, shoving her fingers deep down into the chair. The fingers that were most definitely _not _just caressing the diamond ring that should be comfortably nestled on her left hand.

"Hey."

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks blearily, running a hand through his hair.

"Mmmm. No."

To her surprise, he approaches, leans cautiously against the edge of the desk. "Can I help?"

She shrugs, caught unprepared by his offer, the complete transformation he seems to have gone through in the last twenty four hours. Kate stalls, takes a long drink of hot chocolate.

"There's more hot water in the kitchen if you want," she says instead, catching the way his eyes follow the mug to her lips and back down to rest on her bent knees.

He wasn't planning on a middle of the night snack. Hell, he wasn't planning on anything more than turning over and letting sleep pull him back under, until he rolled over to find the other half of the bed empty. And just like that, it was as though the last few hours never happened, as though Kate had left and he was here alone.

But he deduces her suggestion for what it is, a plea for a bit of space, a moment to force her sleepy mind to focus, to find the words to say what needs to be said. And so Castle stands, makes his way across the loft.

As the soft pad of footsteps grows fainter and fainter, Kate finds herself once again inexplicably drawn to the ring, to the delicate pattern of shimmering diamonds. It's extravagant, intricate, and yet not quite as over-the-top and flashy as she would have expected from him. And maybe, just maybe, she should give him a little more credit, because she has no doubt that it was a deliberate decision on his part, that he took into careful consideration both her job as well as her personal tastes and preferences.

Because he knows her, and he loves her. He's gone above and beyond to prove that to her.

Now it's her turn to do the same.

* * *

She's so enraptured by the ring that she doesn't hear him return, not until he settles back against the edge of the desk, his own mug of steaming cocoa clutched tightly in his grip. Kate blinks hard, forces her eyes away from the ring and up to Castle.

She opens her mouth to speak, say something about the ring, probably, but before she has a chance, she catches sight of the look in Castle's eyes, the tense flutter of emotions that linger behind his gaze, shimmering in the dim light of the lamp.

"Are you okay?"

He forces it down. "Fine, yeah."

"Castle."

Right. They're supposed to talk about things like this. "I thought you were gone," he admits brokenly, voice catching on the final word.

Gone? Oh. Because she wasn't in bed? That hadn't even occurred to her.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs yet again. "I couldn't sleep. I didn't realize..."

"It's okay," he assures her. He panicked, yes. Because she wasn't there. But he can't expect her to lay in bed wide awake, especially when he has a tendency to crawl out of bed in the middle of the night to write when an idea takes hold and just won't let go.

"I'm here, Castle," Kate promises softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

He wants to agree with her, wants to say that he knows she's telling the truth. But he can't, because everything from the last week still lingers, and the panic of waking alone just now is still too raw.

When he says nothing, she switches tactics. "How come you're awake?"

He shrugs. "Just woke up."

"Hmmm," she acknowledges around another sip of cocoa.

"You?"

"Too much on my mind," she murmurs.

Castle nods in understanding but doesn't press for more. Now isn't the time, not at two in the morning, not when they've spent the majority of the last week apart and upset at each other. Not when they still haven't even managed any form of physical contact in days.

After their awkward dance around the bathroom as they stumbled through their usually-coordinated nightly routines, they'd settled into their respective sides of the bed, a chasm of space between them. They'd lain on their backs in silence for at least a minute before Castle offered a quick 'good night' and rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Kate mimicked his position, returned the empty sentiment, curling in on herself as a fresh wave of heartbreak washed over her. Because for all the talking they'd done, all her apologies, they still found themselves uncomfortably tiptoeing around each other.

Hell, she isn't even sure why he bothered to offer to let her stay when it was clear he didn't want to be in bed with her. Maybe she should have gone out to the sofa, or up to the guest room. But the part of her that promised to stop running had asserted itself then, reminding her of her vow to fight for this, to face the issues and stare down the awkwardness. So she stayed.

And hardly slept a wink.

"Mmmm, yeah," Castle replies, and Kate has to retrace her thoughts to remember what he's even replying to.

When he falls silent, she lifts her eyes to him, only to find that he's now the one gazing at the ring, a forlorn look in his eyes, and it tugs at her heart. This stupid, stunning, frustrating, perfect ring that's come to symbolize everything they're not.

Not _yet_, she reminds herself.

"It's gorgeous, Castle." The words spill out uninvited.

What she thinks of the ring is the last thing on his mind at this point, especially considering that he couldn't even convince her to put it on her finger. And yet some small part of him breathes a sigh of relief, because while the proposal may have seemed sudden, he put a lot of thought into the ring, into what she would like and how it would look on her finger.

"I'm glad you like it," he answers almost without thinking.

She half-smiles into the darkness, cradles the mug closer to her chest. "I'm sorry I ruined your proposal."

Oh. That wasn't what she meant to say. Apparently her brain completely lacks a filter at two a.m.

"I guess I should have expected it," Castle shoots back with a shrug, voice suddenly rough and acrid, a complete departure from their soft conversation.

"What?"

"I shouldn't have expected you to say yes," he clarifies, the words bitter as they leave his mouth.

"Castle..." she pleads, because she really doesn't want this to turn into yet another fight.

"You don't commit, Kate. You never have. Why should I be any different?"

A stab of pain shoots through her chest, and she curls in on herself more tightly as Castle retreats, hastening from the office. But no. He doesn't get to run from this, not when he was the one to bring it up.

"Castle," she calls, un-bending her legs and getting to her feet, navigating through the semi-darkness of the office and out into the main room. She finds him by the kitchen sink, back to her as he gazes out over the city, the lights casting an amber glow across his skin, silhouetting the Manhattan skyline through the glass.

"Please just don't," he implores.

"Don't what?" she fights back determinedly. "Keep trying to make you see how sorry I am for the way I've treated you? Keep trying to prove to you that I'm committed? Is that what you want? Because it's not going to happen, Castle."

"Kate..."

"I'm _here_," she interjects. "And I want us to get married someday."

That catches his attention, puts an abrupt end to his pity party.

"I want to wear that ring," she admits, a small smile crinkling the corners of her eyes before her face falls again. "But right now, I don't deserve to."

"I offered it to you," Castle reminds her.

"But I didn't say yes," she recounts sadly. "I...the interview and everything else." Kate shakes her head. "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. But I want to."

The part of him that's still nursing a bruised ego wants to agree with her, tell her she's right. That after all she's done, she doesn't deserve him at all.

But the other part of his mind, the more rational part that manages to look past the anger, reminds him of how extraordinary she is. Of how much he loves her, and how long he fought to even get her to notice him, to be a better man, someone deserving of someone like her. Intelligent, witty, professional, strong, multifaceted, beautiful.

So different from most of the women he's been with.

He's been divorced twice, has a reputation that most women like her would be dissuaded by. Then again, maybe she is. It's not something they've ever talked about. Something else to add to the list, he supposes, and what a horribly uncomfortable conversation that's going to be.

Instead, he settles for a middle ground.

"Maybe not," he concedes. "But sometimes I feel the same about you."

"Castle," she chokes out, because how could he even think that? God, he deserves so much better than her, and it still amazes her that she's the one he wants. The one he wants to marry, despite her flaws, despite the way she's hurt him.

Her eyes drop to her left hand yet again and she'd rather not admit that she's spent an inordinately large amount of time staring at her left ring finger recently, imagining the diamonds sparkling up at her.

"I'm sorry too," Castle says after a moment, leaning back to rest a hip against the edge of the counter.

She pulls her gaze up to him. "For what?"

"The way I handled this," he admits on a defeated sigh. "It wasn't...ideal."

And yet somehow, Kate can't help but defend him, because maybe it was rough and poorly timed and completely unexpected. But that's who they are. And she wishes she'd reacted better.

"It caught me off-guard more than anything," she admits eventually. "I thought...the things you were saying..." she chokes on the words, shakes her head, "I thought you were breaking up with me."

"God, no. Kate..."

"I know," she murmurs. "But I deserved it. I half-expected it. I never thought..."

"Neither did I," Castle admits. "But mother made a comment about how I couldn't expect you to not choose the job when you didn't know where we were going."

"Castle..." she begins.

"I knew that no matter what happened, I didn't want to be without you," he proceeds. "So..."

"Why didn't you say anything before now?" she questions curiously.

He shrugs. "Why bother? Everything was going well, you know. Or so I thought," he adds with a humorless laugh.

"So did I," Kate murmurs in agreement.

Sure, they hadn't talked about much, had been taking it day by day. But it had worked for them, up until recently, until she'd mistaken Castle's hesitance as him losing interest. And so she'd begun looking for her own way out, when what she wanted more than anything was him. And he'd taken that to mean that she wasn't committed.

What a mess.

He reaches back for his mug, long since discarded, takes an unsatisfying swig of the now-cold liquid. He dumps the rest down the drain, sets the dish into the sink, makes his way past her and out of the kitchen. She follows automatically, bare feet hurrying after him as her brain scrambles for the right words.

"Castle," she calls finally, halting him at the door to his bedroom.

"We're on the same page now," she says softly after a moment, placing a hand on his bicep, and when did she even get close enough to touch him? He jerks his head up in surprise, faraway look in his eyes slowly fading as he draws his focus to her, but he doesn't back away. "We are," she affirms as their eyes meet. "But we can't skip straight to the last sentence."

Deep down, he's still hurt. His pride is wounded and he's still not sure how firmly he can trust Kate's words and promises. But he smiles tentatively, and she offers a weak one of her own.

Because damn her, using literary metaphors to explain their situation. And despite it all, he's pretty sure he just fell in love with her a little harder.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Note: Massive thank you to all of your for your kind words and support. I apologize for the lack of individual replies to reviews, but know that I appreciate every one of them._

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Kate rises early the next morning, needing to head back to her apartment to shower and change before heading into the precinct and having the two conversations she's not looking forward to at all.

They crawled back into bed after their middle of the night chat with a large space between them once again, Kate lying awake for at least another hour before finally rolling over, curling close to Castle, to the warm cove of his body, and succumbing to the pull of sleep. If he hadn't already been asleep, she'd have expected him to turn away from her, to increase the distance once again, and yet sometime in the night, Castle's arm made its way to her. The limb is now draped heavily over her waist, pressing her into the bed, holding her to him, and she smiles, because at least his sleeping self still wants to be close to her.

She allows herself a moment of respite, a moment in which she allows herself to believe that everything is okay again, that they're back to how they were, able to smile and laugh and love without hesitation. But work calls, paperwork left over from the case that she dumped on Ryan and Espo, and she's not proud of the way she left things with them. Or with Gates. Her captain still doesn't even know that she's decided to turn down the position and remain at the Twelfth.

She doesn't foresee Gates being overly thrilled with her decision, if for no other reason than the fact that the woman apparently gave her a glowing recommendation.

And so Kate gently slips from beneath the comfort of Castle's arm, her toes curling against the cold wood as they hit the floor. She makes her way to the bathroom, quietly goes about brushing her teeth, splashing some water on her face, taming the tangled mess of hair that hangs limply down her back.

When she emerges, Castle is awake, having rolled over onto what's become her side of the bed, his face half-buried in her pillow. He lifts his head as she crosses the room and she smiles gently, perches on the edge of the bed.

"Morning," she offers.

"Are you leaving?" He speaks at the exact same time.

"Going into the precinct," she clarifies. "I need to take care of a few things."

He hums a noncommittal response.

"Meet me there in an hour?" she questions hopefully.

But Castle shakes his head. "I need to finish up a couple chapters." It's not untrue. He has the emails from Gina to prove it. But he also isn't sure he's quite ready to be back at the precinct where he'll have to face prying eyes and pretend everything is fine. He's not sure he can do that today. Not yet.

"You can just tell me if you need space."

"It's not..." he works himself into a seated position, the covers falling down to his waist, and she can see the definition of his biceps, the muscles in his chest, taught and defined beneath the thin white fabric of his t-shirt. "I really do need to write," he says.

"Okay," she concedes, though she can't hide the disappointed sigh in her voice.

"Kate..."

"What?" she asks harshly, getting to her feet.

"Just give me today. Please."

She crosses the room, retrieves her discarded clothes and quickly changes into them. Her back is to him as she fastens her bra, pulls on her pants and shirt, but as she tilts her head to toss her hair over her shoulder, she can't help but notice Castle's eyes on her, gaze tracing the curve of her hips, and a swell of pride flares through her, because at least he's still noticing her.

Kate smiles smugly to herself, a barely-suppressed grin, and when her eyes catch Castle's again, his head is cocked, expression curious and confused.

"What?"

"Nothing," she replies automatically.

His eyes narrow in reproach.

She swallows hard, forces herself to talk, to be honest. "I just...I miss you, Castle."

Kate closes her eyes, drops her head into her hands. She misses the way he used to kiss her like he couldn't get enough, the way he couldn't keep his hands off of her. She misses the beautiful stories he used to spin for her, be they for a case or a random person on the street. She misses the love that used to radiate in his eyes when he looked at her, like she was the only person in the room.

She misses her best friend, her partner in every sense of the word.

She wants to take back all of the lies, the decisions she's made. She wants to un-break his heart, undo the damage she's done.

She just wants him back by her side.

"I'm sorry," she says again. "I'll go."

"Kate, no..."

"I just..."

He shakes his head as she trails off. "God, what happened to us?"

"I don't know," she admits sadly, inching closer and sinking into the bed once more, eyes fluttering rapidly to suppress the tears of anger and sadness and insecurity and disappointment that she's been holding back for so long. "We went from spending every night together to me dancing half-naked in your shirt and getting turned down, and..."

"Kate..." he interrupts, has to coax her eyes back up to his. "Look at me." When she relents, steels her resolve and meets his eyes, he reaches out, runs a finger gently down her cheek. "You're stunning," he murmurs. "And I love you. I'm sorry that I made you doubt that, and I apologize for the way I treated you that night. But the truth is, I play video games. And when I do, I get sucked in. I'm not asking you to like it," he adds quickly when she opens her mouth to protest. "I'm just asking you to not keep holding it against me."

She blinks slowly, nods. It stung at the time, and the memory still does. But he's right. She's not being fair. She's going to have to get over it, and she may as well start now. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he answers automatically, though they both know it's just a knee-jerk response.

"It's not," she counters. "I shouldn't have assumed."

He cocks his head curiously.

"I felt like we were plateauing. Or that you were..." she shakes her head, trails off. "And then all of the sudden, you wanted to marry me."

"It wasn't sudden."

That captures her undivided attention. "What?"

"It wasn't sudden, Kate," he repeats, softer this time. "I'm in this. I want you in my life. But..." he trails off.

"But what?"

"I didn't think there was any hurry," Castle admits, and he was obviously not incorrect in his assumption. "You loved me, and that was enough."

"And now it's not," she states.

"No, no, it is," he assures her genuinely. "It always will be. As long as it comes with the promise that you're as committed to this as I am."

"I am," she replies without hesitation.

She doesn't expect two words to convince him, but maybe they will kick-start the process, both in her mind and her actions. Because the truth is, she loves him. She wants the future that his ring signifies. But a part of her, the part of her that still bears wounds from losing her mother, is terrified. She's been on the other side of this, and she knows how much it hurts. How completely debilitating it can be if things fall apart.

But she's also gradually coming to learn that some risks are meant to be taken. And that in the end, it'll be worth it no matter what. It's not been an easy or rapid process, but she can feel that she's slowly getting there.

"I have to go," she says softly after a minute. She's been avoiding the precinct, partly due to the need to smooth things over with Castle, but also because she's dreading the conversations that need to be had.

But just like it's time to face these conversations with Castle, she needs to face the others as well.

Kate starts to leave and Castle settles back against the pillows, but she pauses at the last minute, dashes back to him. She rests a hand on his bicep, eyes searching his. "I love you," she whispers, and the words still feel foreign leaving her mouth, only the third time she's spoken them. But they feel right, too. "And I'm sorry that I've been terrible about showing it lately."

He snags her arm as she leans back, pulls her close and lifts his head to press his lips to hers. It's been _days _since they've kissed. And in spite of everything else, he's missed her. So much.

And she loves him. She's not standing on a bomb and they're not screaming mad at each other. But she loves him. He can work with this.

Kate lifts a hand, cups his jaw, lingering. He doesn't move to deepen the kiss and she doesn't push, but they're slow to separate. When she opens her eyes again, Castle is gazing at her tenderly, and she can't help the smile that spreads across her face. Because this is the most normal things have been all week.

And as she finally steps back, makes her way out of the room and, subsequently, the loft, she feels the hope blossom in her chest.

They'll make it through this.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Note: I'm not on team Kate. I'm also not on team Castle. I'm of the opinion that they've both messed up and they both have insecurities and they both need to understand what they've done and talk things out so that they don't keep tearing apart their relationship. Remember, this is a 50k word fic. There's a lot of story to be told still._

* * *

**Chapter 13**

"Hey, there he is."

"Castle, my man, where you been?"

"Hey, guys," he greets, though his smile looks slightly more forced than usual, the lines of his face emphasized in a way they haven't been in nearly two years.

"Didn't expect to see you here today."

He shrugs offhandedly. "Figured I'd stop by. It's been a while."

"Bro, we know you guys had a fight," Espo says, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"We're fine."

"Castle."

"Seriously," he protests, in no mood to reopen the wounds that are only just beginning to heal. "We're fine."

"Then why did Beckett say you wouldn't be here today?"

"Because I was planning to stay home and write," he justifies, gesturing slightly, coffee cup clutched in each hand. Esposito raises an eyebrow at his partner, but Castle is glancing around the bullpen and misses the silent exchange. "Where is Beckett, by the way?"

Ryan nods to his left. "Talking to Gates."

"Oh," he answers emptily, unable to help but wonder if the captain already knew what was going on. How she feels about it. If Ryan and Esposito know.

Was he the only one she didn't tell?

"We know, bro," Espo says after a minute, as though he can read Castle's mind.

"Know?"

"About the job."

"Oh. Right."

He can't help but question what Kate told them. How much they know. He's fine with keeping most of it to himself.

Espo claps him on the shoulder and Ryan offers a smile. "It's good to see you back."

Castle smiles wanly, excuses himself and crosses to Beckett's desk, sinking into the ratty old chair that he wasn't sure he'd ever sit in again. He sets the coffees on the surface of the desk that nearly became someone else's, can't stop himself from reaching out and tracing her name plaque, the bowl of peanut m&ms, the mug filled with pens. All the little touches that make the desk hers.

He finds himself wondering what her desk would have looked like in DC. If he'd ever have been allowed to sit in a chair next to her, or if he'd get stopped at the door, told by a man in a black suit that he's not allowed past that point. He's not going to lie to himself and say that he wouldn't miss working with her, because he would. He'd miss it a lot. He's always loved writing, but the sense of accomplishment that comes from solving a case and bringing justice to families...he's grown addicted to that as well.

And while he still thinks she would have done well in DC, part of him is selfishly glad she decided to stay.

"Do you believe them?" Ryan asks under his breath, glancing over his shoulder at Castle's slumped posture, the man himself completely oblivious to their muted conversation as he sits lost in thought.

"I don't know," his partner replies. "There's something they're not telling us."

"You don't think they broke up?"

"No," Esposito pipes up right away. "But...something happened."

Ryan leans back against the edge of his desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, replaying their earlier conversation with Kate.

_"Yo Beckett," Espo calls across the bullpen, he and Ryan trailing her into the break room. She's standing in front of the espresso machine, fiddling with the settings, doesn't look up right away._

_"Everything okay?" Ryan asks gently._

_Still no response._

_"Kate."_

_She lifts her head, meets Espo's gaze, brown eyes dark with concern and compassion._

_"I was offered a job," she says after a tense moment, opting to just jump right into it. They deserve to know._

_"A job...?"_

_She drops her hands, gives up on the pretense of making coffee. It won't be as good anyway. It never is when she tries to make it herself. "In DC. With the same taskforce as Agent Stack." There's an extended, awkward silence before Kate speaks again. "But I'm not taking it."_

_Ryan nods thoughtfully, but Esposito is not as easily assuaged._

_"Is this what you and Castle fought about?"_

_She nods._

_"He didn't want you to take it?" he guesses._

_Kate shakes her head, knowing the guys are going to be so upset with her. "No, he did actually," she admits._

_"So when you were late to the crime scene the other day..." Ryan begins, putting the pieces together._

_"I was at the interview," she admits._

_"Wait a minute. Castle didn't know?" Esposito asks angrily._

_"Of course he knew," Ryan pipes up defensively, trails off abruptly as Kate shakes her head. "He didn't?"_

_"I didn't even think I'd get the job," she deflects. She knows now that it doesn't matter, that she should have told him regardless. But she's just getting used to talking things out with Castle, and she's not keen on spilling all of her relationship problems to Ryan and Esposito as well. She knows they mean well. She knows they just want to help, offer advice, even if it is a bit harsh. But she's not sure her frayed emotions can take the tough love right now._

_Esposito opens his mouth to speak but Kate beats him to it. "I messed up. I know. Please, just..."_

_He bites his tongue, head shaking in silent disapproval, but Ryan speaks up. "Are you guys still..." he gestures around the room._

_"We'll be okay," Kate says confidently._

_"Then where is he?"_

_"Writing."_

_Esposito's glare is challenging but Kate refuses to budge. "Guys, we're fine."_

_Neither of them look convinced._

"Fifty bucks says I figure it out first," Ryan says under his breath, the edges of an idea beginning to coalesce.

Espo reaches out, firmly shakes his partner's hand, a cocky smile spreading across his face. He's so going to win this. "Deal."

* * *

"Detective."

"Sir."

She gestures to the chair opposite her desk. "I'm surprised to see you here."

Kate sits, hands nervously twisting in her lap. "So am I, sir."

"So," the woman prompts.

"I've decided not to take the job."

"But you were extended the offer?"

She nods. "I was."

"Then I can't imagine why you would turn it down," Gates states.

_Because Castle proposed. Because I'd rather be with him than surrounded by a job that takes up all my time and forces me to put him on the back burner. Because I'd miss having him as a partner. Because I love it here. Because New York is my home._

Somehow, she doesn't think any of those would count as an acceptable answer to give to her boss.

Instead she settles on, "With all due respect, sir, I don't think it would have been a good fit for me."

"I see," Gates replies, but Kate can tell that she remains unconvinced. That she can see right through Kate's short and to-the-point answers, can tell that there's something else going on. She's obviously more observant than Kate and Castle ever gave her credit for when it comes to them, and there's no way she hasn't noticed the writer's recent absence. "So am I to assume that you and your _partner_ will be showing up for work bright and early tomorrow morning?"

Kate nods once, hoping that he actually does choose to join her tomorrow. "Yes, sir."

Gates sits back in her chair, hands steepled in front of her. "Very well then." She flaps one arm towards the door, reaches out to open a file folder and snag her glasses, an obvious dismissal, so Kate stands and makes her way out of the office.

That was...uncomfortable. She didn't expect Gates to approve of her decision, but she also didn't expect...well, she's not sure what she expected. But not that.

At least it's over with.

* * *

By the time Kate makes it back to her desk, thoroughly rattled and completely off-kilter, Castle has wandered off to the break room sofa, sipping his coffee and absently flipping through a magazine. She doesn't see him at first, doesn't even register his presence until she sinks into her desk chair, hand automatically reaching for the coffee cup sitting in front of her keyboard. She raises it to her lips, is about to take a swig of the hot liquid when...

"Is Castle here?" she asks, confused, right hand suspended in mid-air.

"Yeah, he showed up a few..."

Kate is out of her chair before Ryan finishes his sentence, coffee cup set hastily back onto the wooden surface as she dashes off across the bullpen in search of her partner.

Because he's here.

And he brought her coffee.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Note: This will probably be the only update this week, but update frequency will be back to normal next week. Thank you everyone for your patience. And to my American readers, happy 4th of July!_

* * *

**Chapter 14**

She bumps into the doorway in her haste to find him, careening gracelessly into the break room where she finds him on the sofa, flicking through the menu on his phone. He lifts his head at the noise, face softening slightly when he sees her, and he's just getting to his feet as she crashes into him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

He stiffens, exhales slowly and allows himself to relax into her as his arms settle across her upper back.

It's a long while before they separate, and only when they do does Castle finally speak. "Everything okay?"

Kate hesitates, searching for the words, because how does she even begin to describe how ecstatic she is to see him when just hours earlier it seemed as though he'd rather be anywhere but here?

"I'm just happy to see you," she says after a moment. He shrugs one shoulder, as though it's nothing, but they both know better. "And thanks for the coffee," she adds with a smile.

"Really, Castle," she presses when he offers no response. "Thank you."

He smiles, steps back to lean against the back of the sofa.

"Finished the chapters?" Kate asks, searching for something, _anything_, to fill the silence.

He shrugs again, sinks his hands into his pockets. "Mostly. I got bored."

"You missed the precinct," she says softly, reaching out to run a hand down his arm. "But don't worry. The guys missed you too."

"I missed _you,_" Castle answers, surprising her with his words, because lately it's seemed as though distance is all he's wanted. It's been killing her, but she figured she owed him the time to work through things on his own terms, so she took a step back. And she's glad to see that it seems to be paying off. "I just...I hate this," he says softly, bringing her back from her thoughts. "I hate when we fight."

"So do I," Kate murmurs.

"I just want to forget about all of this," he admits, continues after a brief moment. "But I know we can't."

"No," she agrees. "But maybe we can start putting it behind us?"

Castle smiles, dislodges one hand from his pocket and reaches out for her. She comes easily, allows him to twine their fingers together and tug her towards him. He catches a whiff of her scent as she steps closer, has to close his eyes for a moment against the feelings it invokes, the wave of emotion that crashes over him. Yes, he wishes they were engaged, and yes, a part of him is still upset about it, and yes, that same part of him still stubbornly wants to be passively aggressively angry at her. But the larger part of him, the part that's grown accustomed to falling asleep with her and waking up with her in his bed and spending his days by her side, is finally beginning to assert itself. Loudly.

He can't say that what happened doesn't matter anymore, that he can just forget about it. He can't. He'll probably never be able to, not completely. But unlike the last few days, he's ready to begin moving on now, ready to try to forgive and begin to rebuild.

From the tightness of her earlier hug, he's pretty sure she is too.

* * *

"What do you think's going on?"

Ryan shakes his head, eyes fixed on the couple in the break room, confused by the way they're clinging to each other, the fact that Castle's here when Beckett said he wouldn't be, the fact that they've both been deliberately evasive about their fight. He knows it had to do with the job. At least, part of it must have. But he's still not convinced that there isn't something else going on.

"You still don't think she could be pregnant?"

"Bro, you got babies on the brain already."

"Shut up," Ryan quips.

"She's not pregnant," Esposito defends.

"How do you know?"

"Castle brought her coffee," he answers simply.

"It could be decaf."

Ryan takes a step towards her desk to confirm his theory, shooting a glance over to the break room just in time to catch Castle's eye, and he stops in his tracks, automatically busies himself with the file in his hand, the paperwork he's supposed to be filing.

Esposito just shakes his head, silently laughing at his partner's antics. She's not pregnant. There's just no way. But he'll let Ryan keep thinking that. It gives him a chance to come at this from a different angle.

He casts another sidelong glance at the break room. They're closer now, eyes locked, lips barely moving as they speak, and it's blatantly obvious that something is changing between them. Or maybe it already has.

Either way, he knows exactly who would know the truth.

* * *

"So...how?"

"What?" Kate asks, tearing her eyes from their joined hands, the way they link together so smoothly. So right.

"How do we do this?" Castle clarifies, still caught up in his earlier words. "Where do we go from here?"

Oh. Right. Putting things behind them. Moving forward.

She has no idea. Not a clue. But maybe she can find them a place to start.

"Dinner?" she suggests tentatively.

"Uh, sure, I can get us a reservation," he answers unevenly.

"No, I meant, at home. I'll cook."

Another shrug, and she finds herself wishing he'd be a bit more decisive. She's missed the take-charge side of him, the one who goes after what he wants and doesn't back down until he gets it.

"Sure."

She smiles, squeezes his hand. "Great."

"Yeah."

"But I uh," she gestures over her shoulder ruefully. "I should get back to work."

"You catch a case?"

A shake of her head. "Paperwork from the last one I need to finish up. You sticking around?"

Castle tilts his head thoughtfully, takes a swig of coffee. He catches sight of Ryan and Esposito through the slats of the blinds just in time to watch them suddenly busy themselves with a stack of papers and a cell phone, and the words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

"Did they know?"

"What?" Kate stumbles, caught off guard by the complete derailment of their conversation.

He nods to the bullpen and Kate follows his line of sight, sees Esposito unsubtly watching them from the corner of his eye as he mimics checking something on his phone, Ryan pretending to fill out paperwork.

"They do now."

His hand slips from hers and her arm falls limply to her side. "And Gates?"

Kate nods.

"Was I the only one you didn't tell?"

"Castle," Kate sighs. "Please don't."

"Was I?" he presses, unwilling to let this go.

"No," she admits, so thankful that she can truthfully provide this answer. "I only told them today."

"About the job?"

She nods.

"What about everything else?"

Kate shakes her head and Castle's sigh of relief is brought to an abrupt halt by another thought.

"Gates too?"

She rakes a hand through her hair, the long curls catching between her fingers, falling messily back to the sides. "DC called her. After the interview."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"And?"

"I think she's disappointed," Kate answers slowly. "That I didn't take it. But she doesn't know anything else."

Castle hums softly in response, falling into a thoughtful silence. "Do you regret it?" he questions after a while.

Kate shakes her head, absolutely certain in her answer. Here at the Twelfth, with Castle by her side, is where she belongs. Where her heart truly lies. She's done trying to deny it. Done trying to deny herself of the life she's come to desire.

She reaches out, catches his hand, loops their fingers together once again.

"Not at all."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"You know, you don't have to do this."

"I know," she assures him, drying her hands on a towel and lifting the lid with one hand to check on the alfredo sauce. "But I want to."

"I'm just saying," he replies, voice laced with doubt.

"Castle," Kate chastises.

"What?"

She sighs, tosses the dishtowel onto the counter and folds her arms across her chest. "Can you just...stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Not believing me."

"I don't..."

"You do."

He says nothing, eyes averted, and his lack of rebuttal is all the answer she needs.

"Is this going to go on forever?" Kate snaps, irritated.

"What?"

"You constantly doubting me," she shoots back. "I offer to cook dinner or make you coffee, and you automatically assume that I'm just doing it because, what? I feel like I have to?"

"I don't..."

"I _want _to, Castle," she continues. "I admit, part of this," she sweeps her arm around the kitchen, "is me trying really hard. But it's what I should have been doing all along. And I'm really sorry that I've made you doubt my feelings for you. And the fact that you _are_ what I want."

He sighs heavily, runs a hand through his tousled hair.

"I just don't know what else I can do to make you see that," Kate breathes quietly when he says nothing, desperate to fix this, to erase the doubt that's settled so heavily over his heart.

Castle sinks back against the counter, arms falling to his sides. "I don't either."

"I know that I should have told you about the interview." Kate admits. "And I'm sorry that I didn't," she whispers, words near silent as they echo around the kitchen, cutting through the soft sounds of simmering pasta sauce and gently boiling water. "And I want to make it up to you. I just don't know how."

Silence falls as they both take in her words, simultaneously wracking their brains for a solution, a way to move past this, to become more.

Kate knows, deep down, how she could make it right. She knows exactly what she could do to erase his doubts. But she also knows that she's holding back. She can deny it all she wants, but the truth is that she's terrified of how much she loves him, terrified of how absolutely devastated she'd be if she lost him. Terrified that the combination of both of their miserable relationship track records will lead to the eventual disintegration of everything they have. It's a fear she's going to have to learn to overcome, but she still hasn't figured out how.

And yes, Castle admits to himself, maybe proposing was pushing too hard. Maybe it was too many steps forward. What was it she'd said? Something about not skipping straight to the end of the page? In that case, he can force himself to step back, take it one sentence at a time.

They'll start with tonight, with dinner. And maybe, if they're lucky, they can use that as a stepping stone for the next paragraph.

Because when she extended this offer earlier today, she said _home._ And when she cooked for them this evening, she did so in his loft.

* * *

Dinner is delicious, and they're on their second helping, complete with a glass of wine, when he decides to broach the topic. He's been tossing the words around in his mind for hours now, searching for the best way to ease into this conversation, but he's finally decided to just state it flat out.

"You know, when I asked you to stay last night," he begins around a forkful of pasta.

"You didn't just mean for the night, did you?" Kate pitches in, her suspicions confirmed.

He shakes his head.

"That's what I thought."

"You don't want to." It's not a question.

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, no, that's not true. And yes, I do," Kate splutters, the words spilling out in a jumbled pile, but to her surprise, when her brain catches up with her mouth, there's no panic there. The whole marriage thing still scares her, and she knows they still have a lot of work to do on the communication front.

But moving in...she loves it here. She spends most nights here anyway, and even when she doesn't, he's usually with her at her place. She's grown accustomed to falling asleep with him. To being with him day and night. In fact, she's more accustomed to it than she likes to admit.

Moving in is the next logical step, and one that, while a first for her, doesn't feel like such a giant leap into the unknown. And even if it does, she trusts that he'll be there to catch her. Because he loves her. He's made that very clear.

"So you'll stay?" he asks tentatively, biting back the apprehension that's rushing through his veins in anticipation of her answer.

Kate smiles around a sip of wine, sets the glass back onto the table and reaches out to cover his hand with her own.

And as the one-word affirmative answer spills from her lips, she realizes that maybe it's not so scary after all.

* * *

They linger after the meal, relaxing back in their chairs as they enjoy a second glass of wine, and though the topic of moving in doesn't come up again, Kate is already mentally cataloguing her belongings, imagining her favorite items joining his here at the loft, her clothing next to his in the closet, her books mixed with his on the shelves.

Her life twined with his so completely.

She smiles to herself and Castle catches her, sets his glass aside. "What?"

Kate shakes her head, but the smile still doesn't fall from her face.

They fall into an easy conversation after that, the words flowing back and forth with their typical ease as they talk and laugh. Kate can feel the wine loosening her a bit, can see the effect in Castle's eyes as well, and she finds herself hoping that this night can't be completely attributed to the alcohol.

Maybe wine was a bad idea.

Or maybe it's exactly what they need, just enough of a lack of inhibition to put the last week behind them and begin building a new rhythm.

At his firm insistence, Castle takes care of clean up, leaving Kate to her own devices, so she slips into his office to return an earlier call from Lanie, fill her friend in on recent events. She takes the news exactly as Kate expected, complete with an ear-piercing squeal and a demand for a girl's night that includes wine and every little detail.

She's still chatting away when he finishes, wrapped up in her friend's recollection of Esposito's failed attempts to figure out what's going on between them, so Castle crosses into the bedroom, slipping off his clothing and depositing the garments in the hamper, figuring he'll freshen up while he's waiting. Kate is just hanging up with Lanie as the water turns on, and with the words of her friend clear in her mind, she makes a split-second decision.

She's had enough of the awkwardness, the distance, the hesitance and doubt and everything else. She knows she made some poor choices, and she knows that the repercussions aren't going to vanish overnight. But she also knows that this cool politeness interspersed with the occasional moment of physical contact isn't going to help either.

They're in a relationship. They love each other. They're moving in together. And that's cause for celebration.

She strips off her clothing as she walks, leaving the pieces of her outfit in a trail across the bedroom. The door to the bathroom is cracked, almost as though he's anticipating her eventual appearance, and she silently slips through, eyes falling immediately to the outline of Castle's broad form through the frosted glass of the shower door. He's standing beneath the spray, completely unaware of her presence, and she feels a wave of nervousness mixing with the arousal, the possibility of his rejection mingling with a plethora of memories of their naked forms twined together beneath the pounding stream of hot water.

Taking a deep breath to suppress her nerves, Kate secures her hair into a hasty bun, slides open the door, and steps into the stall.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's Note: Please note the rating change. If M rated stuff isn't your thing, skip to a little over halfway down the page._

**Chapter 16**

His reaction is instant, spurred by the influx of cool air blending with the warm humidity of the shower. He turns, water cascading in rivulets down his broad chest, the flat expanse of delicious skin, and _God,_ she's missed running her hands over it, feeling the flex of his muscles beneath her fingertips. But before she has a chance to reach for him, to speak, anything, she finds herself plastered against the cool tile wall, completely surrounded by his naked form as his lips descend onto hers.

It's all a blur after that, the way he maps the ridges of her skin with trails of kisses, the warmth of his hands as they travel up and down her back, over the soft curve of her waist, finally settling on the sharp edges of her hipbones as he presses into her.

Her fingers fist in his hair as he brings his lips back to hers, tongue probing, delving deep, and she feels her knees give out at the sensation. Her whole body feels weak and shaky, adrenaline coursing through her veins in time with the rapid pounding of her heart, because it's just been so _long_ since he's loved her like this, so fierce and passionate and all-consuming.

She doesn't realize until now just how badly she's needed it.

* * *

Maybe it's that it's been a while, or maybe it's the way the hot water sluices over their wanting bodies, or maybe it's the excitement of agreeing to move in, but everything is elevated.

Her muscles ripple responsively beneath his every touch, pinpricks of sensation spreading in concentric waves from each point of contact. She wraps a leg high around the back of his thighs, her hands clinging frantically to his back, and the weight of him pressing her into the wall is the only thing holding her upright.

One hand slides down, fingers parting her, so hot and wet and ready, and she feels her inner muscles flutter as his palm settles right where she needs it most. Her hips twitch violently, writhing against his hands, seeking more, more, more, and he obliges until she's close, so close, eyes screwed shut, breath leaving her in heavy pants.

When he slides into her in one firm stroke, she whimpers, one hand fisting in his hair, the other clinging to his bicep as her head falls back against the tile. It's hard and fast and the way he's kissing her, lips on her neck, her jaw, teeth nibbling along the sharp line of her collarbone – she can't breathe through the assault of sensation.

It's not long before they're crashing over the edge together, leaving them a trembling mass of limbs plastered against the wall of the shower, muscles fighting to maintain their vertical position, hearts pounding, rapid exhales fanning out across their drenched skin.

Kate releases a shaky breath, buries her head in Castle's neck as his arms settle gently across her lower back, cradling her quivering body to his. He breathes her in, feels another ripple of arousal flicker through him, the flame reignited now at the feeling of having her here in his arms, bodies twined together, hearts beating as one.

God, he's missed her. So much.

* * *

They're still wrapped around each other in the stall when the water runs cold, and they stumble out as a tangle of limbs, hands desperately searching for fluffy towels. Castle tosses one to Kate and she secures it across her chest before snagging the other from his grip and beginning to dry him off, gently toweling the water droplets from his skin, following the newly-dried paths with her other hand.

She makes it as far as his lower back before he presses her up against the bathroom counter, slipping the soft cotton from her figure with one hand as his other cups her jaw, pulling her into a deep kiss.

The steam envelops them, warm and misty air surrounding them as Castle's hand falls to the back of her thigh, hoisting her onto the counter. Kate wraps her legs around his, pulling him forward, the front of their bodies in firm contact, and she's already about to lose control _again_ and he hasn't even touched her yet.

She kisses him hard, fingers twining through his hair, her other arm looping itself around his neck as she nips at his lower lip, teasing him with her tongue. He responds in kind and she gasps, the air leaving her lungs in a breathy moan, and she has to pull back to catch her breath.

Castle continues his assault of her skin, teeth closing around the soft curve of her earlobe, lips trailing a line down her neck, across her shoulder, down her chest, lower and lower. He dips his tongue into her belly button, presses his lips to the tender skin just beneath, eyes dancing liquid ebony with arousal as he gazes up at her from between her legs.

She drops her head back in anticipation of his touch, whimpers when she feels his teeth nip at the crease of her thigh, gasps as his tongue trails a hot, wet path through her center.

They don't make it to the bed.

They don't even make it out of the bathroom.

* * *

Castle collapses against the bathroom cabinets, sliding to the floor, Kate sprawled limply across his lap. He slips out of her as they settle, and her legs tighten around his hips as another spasm rolls through her, a forceful aftershock. Castle groans as their centers come into firm contact, drops his head back against the wood and forces himself to inhale deeply, to relax.

Because it's like their first night all over again, complete with the way the water drips from her hair onto their overheated skin, and the desperation with which they need each other, and the edge of I'm-still-a-little-angry-at-you that infuses every touch, and the complete lack of ability to hold back. It's amazing and overwhelming all at the same time, and all he knows with certainty is that he's perfectly content here on the bathroom floor all night as long as Kate is slumped on top of him.

It's never been like this with anyone else. Never been so all-consuming and intense, never made him lose control so completely.

She has one knee on either side of his hips and she's naked and so deliciously rumpled, and it's only a matter of time before his body begins to react to her again. He knows she feels it because she snickers into his skin, a smirk spreading across her lips. Castle lifts his hips just slightly, enough to bring them into contact with hers, and her smirk melds into a whimper, then a groan as he slides past her.

With gentle hands on her hips, he guides her off of him, staggers to his feet on weak, sated muscles. He takes her hand, tugging her out of the bathroom, promptly finds himself backed against the outside of the door frame as Kate presses herself to his front, practically climbing his body in her eagerness.

They make it to the bed this time, but just barely.

* * *

It's well after midnight before sleep begins to overtake them, the edges of exhaustion creeping into their sex-addled minds, blurring what remains of their mental faculties. They're both crowded onto his side of the bed, Kate sprawled on her stomach, Castle next to her, one leg thrown over her hip, arm wrapped possessively across her back, the weight of him pressing her into the bed. She laces her fingers with his, pulling him closer, and he subconsciously tightens his grip. She smiles blissfully, relaxes into the mattress more heavily.

Castle whispers something on a sated sigh, a mumble of unintelligible words that vanish into the darkness, but Kate is pretty sure she catches the words 'amazing,' and 'love' and 'you' amongst the slurred syllables. She presses her lips to his skin, a soft kiss, and he tilts his chin, buries his nose in her hair.

She's missed this. Missed falling asleep with him, skin on skin, so close together that she can't tell where she ends and he begins. Alone in her bed for most of the last week, she'd tossed and turned, struggling to fall asleep without him next to her, and that alone lets her know that she's made the right decision by agreeing to move into the loft. It was gradual at first, but it's gotten to the point now where she feels more at home here than at her own apartment.

But she's perfectly okay with that. This is her home now. Here, wrapped up in the arms of the man gently snoring next to her.

And despite the fact that Kate fell apart at his hand – and, ahem, other body parts – four times tonight, she feels more whole than she has in a long time.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's Note: This should go without saying but apparently I have to say it anyway. PLEASE DON'T SEND ME SPOILERS IN REVIEWS. Thank you._

* * *

**Chapter 17**

"Five more minutes," he slurs into the pillow as Kate reaches out to shut off the alarm, blindly searching for her phone with one hand, her other arm trapped under the weight of Castle's body over hers.

"Castle." She attempts to wriggle out from beneath his grip only to have him tighten his hold, his naked body a warm furnace wrapped around hers. "I need to take a shower."

"You took one last night," he recollects with a sleepy smile, snuggling them further into the bed.

She rolls over, fixes him with what he assumes is meant to be a stern glare. It fails spectacularly. "Yes. And I didn't actually get clean."

"Oh I know," he leers, both eyes open now and dancing with mischief and arousal. "The words that came out of your mouth in that shower were _very dirty_."

She rolls her eyes, manages to slip from beneath his grip as his arms go lax, mind clearly caught up replaying images from the last twelve hours. She sits up in bed, feet dangling over the edge, sheet wrapped around one thigh as she forces herself to suppress the desire to remain in bed all morning and face the day that lies ahead.

The bed shifts behind her as Castle leans forward, presses his lips softly between her shoulder blades, and a shiver wracks her body, completely derails her attempts at self-control.

Kate sighs softly, doesn't fight it this time when his arms loop around her waist from behind, tugging her back into bed. He wraps himself around her back, buries his nose in her neck, and she shudders again as his exhale fans out across her skin.

"Cold?" he asks smugly.

"Shut up."

"If you insist," he shoots back, busying his lips with tracing the line of her bare shoulder, her upper arm. She rolls onto her back beneath him as he props himself up onto one elbow and he moves to explore the newly exposed skin, tongue peeking out to taste her. She sighs contentedly, arms rising to wrap around his shoulders, hold him to her. He kisses his way across her chest, up the other side of her neck, and she arches into the cool press of his lips, the warm solid presence of his body.

He breathes her in and she takes advantage of his moment of distraction, wrapping one leg around his waist and flipping them, pressing him into the bed. She rises above him then, legs straddling his waist, a sexy smirk on her face as she rolls her hips against his. Castle groans, head falling back, and she leans forward, taking the lobe of his ear between her teeth and nibbling playfully.

Castle's hands rise to her hips, holding her to him, firm pressure against his growing arousal as she teases him with her lips and tongue. His eyes are closed tightly, an attempt at self-restraint, and her mouth and hands are everywhere at once as she moves over his body, and he's so lost in sensation that he can't tell what's going to happen next, can't help the sharp twitch of his hips as she presses the flat of her tongue to him, a long, slow ascent from base to tip. She cups him with one hand, the other following the path of her tongue, fingers dancing softly over the sensitive flesh. She swirls her tongue around his tip before closing her lips over him and then he's lost, so lost, completely surrounded by Kate and her scent and her touch and the warmth of her mouth on him.

But he's close already and as much as he's enjoying this, he wants to be inside of her. Wants to feel her around him, the flutter of her muscles as they drive each other closer and closer to the edge, the rhythmic tightening of her around him as she falls apart above him, frissons of pleasure rolling through her body.

So he threads a hand through her hair, gently tugs her off of him and guides her up, chasing her mouth with his as she settles over him.

Kate kisses him hard, his taste on her lips, and he cups her jaw with both hands as their tongues tangle. She takes him inside of her then, so hot and wet, and he drops his head back into the pillows in sheer bliss because it never gets any less amazing.

He's pretty sure it never will.

Kate rolls her hips over his, so tortuously slow, but she's moving in and they're eventually getting engaged and then married, so lets her set the pace. They have all the time in the world for hot and fast or up against the wall or on the kitchen counter or anywhere in between.

Every day for the rest of their lives.

With the way she rises above him, the sensual sounds falling from her lips, Castle's absolutely positive that the 'rest of their lives' isn't going to last very long. He's going die an early death, thanks to her.

But oh, what a fantastic way to go.

* * *

Kate leaves him in a sated heap on top of the covers, allowing herself two blissful minutes in his arms before dragging her shaking muscles out of bed and _oh,_ there's a twinge she hasn't felt in a while. She glances over her shoulder as she shuffles into the bathroom to see Castle still sprawled on his back, eyes closed, a shit-eating grin on his face.

She's already washed her hair, is soaping up her body, by the time he joins her. His eyes are still glazed over and he takes the loofah from her with fumbling fingers, runs it over her body, but the movements lack their usual smooth coordination.

Kate smirks, pretends she doesn't notice, but in reality, she's never going to get over the fact that she can reduce her favorite author to a speechless, bumbling, sexy mess.

But then the loofah falls to the ground and his fingers slide between her legs, and it doesn't take much before she's falling apart again, legs trembling, elbows braced on the wall, all coherent thought evaporated from her brain.

Sometimes she forgets how easily he can do the same to her.

* * *

She arrives at the precinct an hour later than she has been recently, Castle on her heels, steaming cups of coffee in each of their hands as they exit the elevator. They walk close together, shoulders bumping occasionally, the paper bag in Castle's right hand brushing against his pantleg with every other step.

They didn't have time for breakfast, courtesy of their early morning detour, so he settles into his chair, peels open the bag and passes Kate one of the bearclaws, claiming the other for himself. It's warm and delicious, and he can think of something else that meets those two descriptors as well, and before he can stop himself, his brain is back in bed with Kate on top of him, lips and tongue and fingers trailing over his skin in the best way possible.

While he daydreams, Kate sets her bearclaw aside, stands to file away the papers she finished last night, and promptly finds herself cornered by a grinning Ryan and a smirking Esposito.

"Yo, Beckett."

She whirls around, a new stack of files in one hand. "Hmm."

Esposito nods out into the bullpen. "What's wrong with your boy here?"

Kate follows his gaze and even from a distance she can see the pleased smile on Castle's face, the faraway look in his eyes. It's blatantly obvious where his mind is, and considering that she's not faring much better, she's not even going to bother to deny it. Because she's trying really hard to walk normally, and the seam of her pants is situated just so, and she's overstimulated still, and she really just wants to drag him into the nearest supply closet and tear his clothes off.

From Ryan's knowing smirk, it's written all over her face.

So she silently tucks the files under her arm, brushes right past them with a smile, stopping only when she reaches her desk. She nudges her partner and he startles at her touch.

"Castle," she hisses.

"Huh?"

"Stop...smiling like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you enjoyed what happened this morning," Kate clarifies under her breath.

"Oh, but I did."

"Yes, and the entire precinct can tell."

His eyes slide back into focus then as he glances around, catches Ryan, Esposito, and a couple of uniforms glancing at him curiously.

Castle clears his throat, takes a long drink of coffee. "Right, sorry."

He lasts five minutes before he's lost in the memories again.

She only makes it a few minutes longer.

* * *

They catch a case mid-afternoon, and Castle is right on Kate's heels as she crosses to the elevator, tossing around theories at the crime scene as they incorporate the evidence with what the boys bring back from the canvass. He weaves them a convoluted tale of betrayal and deceit, complete with an alien abduction staged by men in black suits that elicits an exaggerated eye roll from Kate.

He chatters all the way back to the precinct, Kate nodding along, interjecting when appropriate, not taking in every word he's saying and yet so glad to hear him talking and laughing again. When they return to the bullpen he makes a beeline for the white board, begins assembling a timeline and jotting down details of the vic and their most likely suspects.

It's as though everything is back to normal, and Kate can't help but smile at the realization.

And yet some small part of her can't help but wonder if they're only waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She needs an outside opinion on this, an objective view. And she knows exactly who to ask. So with a gentle kiss and the promise to head home in a couple of hours, they part on the sidewalk out front of the Twelfth, Castle watching with a smile on his face as Kate disappears down the sidewalk, her words playing over and over in his mind.

_Home._

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's Note: Thank you everyone for the reviews last chapter. And as always, thank you so much to Andy for being such a wonderful beta :)_

* * *

**Chapter 18**

"Now, I know the last time we spoke, things seemed to be going well with Castle. Is that still the case?"

"We're moving in together," Kate answers, folding her legs and tucking them up beneath her on the chair.

"You don't seem all that excited about it," the man observes in his calm yet knowing way.

Kate sighs. "I am. It's just...things have been a bit rough lately."

The doctor crosses one ankle over the opposite knee, folds his hands and rests them in his lap. "How so?"

She drops her hands to her lap, fiddling with a loose string on the bottom of her pants as she launches into the story of the interview and subsequent fight with Castle, the proposal, the fallout of all of it and their recent attempts at putting the pieces back together. When she's finished with the story, she drops her head in shame, because somehow, saying it out loud has made her truly realize for the first time just what she's done to him. To them.

Silence falls as Dr. Burke considers her words, carefully chooses a place to begin. "Why did you feel the need to hide the interview?" he asks after a moment.

"I don't know," Kate replies automatically.

"Sure you do."

She sighs. "I didn't think I'd get the job, so I didn't think it would matter."

"And yet, you applied," Burke points out. "Which means that at least some small part of you thought you had a shot at being offered the position."

"I just wanted to see where I stood," she defends.

"Was a federal position something you've ever considered before?"

A shake of her head. "I've always had a reason to stay in New York."

"Don't you still have one?" Burke asks slyly.

Kate busies herself with the fraying hem of her pant leg once again. "I wasn't sure if I did."

Burke remains silent, waiting her out until she begins to speak again.

"Castle and I were...I thought we were falling apart," she admits. "I felt like I was pushing forward and he was digging his feet in."

"Why do you think that is?"

Kate thinks back to Lanie's words, to all the ways she's held back her feelings for her partner over the last five years. "Because I asked him to wait for me before."

"You think he's still waiting?"

"I...guess he could be."

"How did you let him know you were ready before?" the doctor probes.

Kate smiles to herself at the memory, hair falling in front of her face as she dips her head. "I came to him and told him," she admits, amending her answer a bit to omit the part where she showed up soaking wet at his doorstep and kissed him. A lot. Burke doesn't need to know all the details.

"Have you considered doing the same thing now?" he questions.

"I've...tried," she answers.

"How so?"

"I was open about my feelings."

"And?"

"And then everything just fell apart," she recalls.

"Fell apart how?"

"I..." Kate pauses. "I felt like he was losing interest. Kind of just...going through the motions. Then we worked this case with a wealthy entrepreneur and the guy was coming onto me and I..." she shakes her head, not proud of her actions, the way she allowed Vaughn to get inside her head, plant seeds of doubt into her relationship. "He took an interest in me," Kate explains eventually. "And it was nice to be noticed."

"And how did Castle react to all of this?"

"He was jealous."

"Rightly so?"

"It was warranted," Kate admits.

"And what happened after this incident?"

"Castle...apologized," she responds. "Admitted that maybe he'd been taking me for granted."

"Was that how you felt?"

Kate nods, eyes lifting to meet the therapist's.

"Do you still feel that way?"

She drops her gaze again, considers the question. Castle's made it evident that he loves her. He proposed. He gave her another chance even after she said 'not now.' He asked her to move in. He's been upset, yes, but beneath it all she can tell that he's trying. Really hard.

"No," she answers honestly.

"So what's still bothering you?"

Kate silently curses the doctor's acute observational skills, the way he can analyze every tiny detail, minute changes in posture and facial expressions that allow him to see right through her.

"What if it happens again?"

"Castle taking you for granted, you mean?" he clarifies.

A nod.

"I suppose that's always a possibility," Burke acknowledges. "Why is this of particular concern?"

Sometimes she hates therapy, the way they're trained to ask the questions she doesn't want to answer.

"He's been divorced twice," Kate points out. "What if this has happened before and that's why...?" she trails off, minds churning through a variety of possibilities, because the truth is, she still doesn't know the story behind Gina, neither the demise of their marriage nor their rekindled romance. From what little she knows of the woman, she can't imagine the two of them being a good fit. But there's a lot she doesn't know. A lot that she needs to know.

"Is this a fear you've expressed to him?" Burke asks, cutting through her thoughts.

"Not...exactly."

"Perhaps there's a conversation to be had," he suggests.

Kate huffs a laugh. "There are a lot of conversations to be had, apparently."

"This isn't the only thing bothering you then?"

She shrugs. "We don't communicate very well," she admits. "That's how we got into this mess."

"And I'm afraid that's the only way you're going to get out of it," Burke states resolutely.

"I know," Kate admits. "And we've been trying."

"You want this to work," he observes astutely.

Kate nods. She does. It still terrifies her at times just how hard she's willing to fight for them, how badly she wants to make things work. How much she loves him and the lengths she'll go to to avoid losing him. It's never been like this before.

"Yeah," she admits. "I do."

"Do you think he feels the same?"

She's slower to respond this time, but her answer is firm. "I didn't at first," she admits. "But now I do."

"What changed your mind?"

"Well, he proposed," she recounts lightly.

"And yet, you're not engaged," he points out.

"Yet," she corrects automatically.

"And why is that?"

Kate switches her attention to the pattern on the armchair, fingertips travelling back and forth over the textured surface as she considers his question, searches for the best way to convey her answer.

"I wasn't sure it was for the right reasons," she admits.

"How so?"

"I didn't know what I know now," she answers with a shrug. "We'd been fighting and I'd been offered the job, and I thought it was just him wanting me to stay."

"But it wasn't?" he prompts.

"No," Kate answers. "He told me he'd been thinking about it for a while. And that he'd go with me if DC was what I wanted."

"You believe him?"

She nods without hesitation.

"Is this why you've chosen to stay?"

"Part of it," she concedes. "But I love what I do here," Kate continues. "And the city is my home. DC was great but it wouldn't be the same."

"And you have a reason to stay here," he comments, looping back to their earlier conversation.

She smiles softly. "Yeah."

"If you didn't have Castle, do you think your decision would have been different?" Burke probes, hoping to dig deeper, to confirm his underlying suspicions.

"I don't know," she begins, taking her time to sift through the many factors at play. Without Castle, she may never have been offered the position in the first place. Or she may have been extended the offer and would have taken it without hesitation. And yet, even if he'd broken up with her on the swings, she probably wouldn't have ended up taking the job.

"Would you have applied?"

"Possibly," she answers. The part of her that was truly interested to see where she stood amongst the ranks might have taken the interview, purely out of professional curiosity.

"Or is it possible," Burke challenges calmly, "that you were looking for a change and the job happened to provide the perfect opportunity?"

Her silence speaks volumes as it echoes through the stillness of the room.

"My relationships never last," she admits softly after an extended silence. "And the things that were happening..."

"You thought this one was ending," he states.

"It was starting to feel that way."

"Did you ever mention any of this to him?"

Kate shakes her head.

"Why not?"

"I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answers," she admits.

"So it was time to find a way out instead."

"I guess so," she confesses sadly as the doctor's words hit home, the realization crashing over her like a wave. Because he's right. And she realizes now just how right he is.

Castle accused her of using the job as a way to run from the answers she wasn't sure she wanted to hear, and he wasn't wrong. But Burke's words just now have hit the nail on the head. She wasn't just running from the answers, and not even from the questions.

She was running from the heartbreak, shattering her own heart instead of waiting for the possibility of Castle shattering it for her.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's Note: Huge thank you for the reviews last chapter! I really appreciate all of your lovely feedback._

* * *

**Chapter 19**

"Was that what you wanted?" Burke asks after his words have had a chance to sink in.

"The job?"

"A way out," he clarifies.

"No," Kate murmurs, reaching to swipe at a lone tear with her index finger.

"So the two of you moving in together...you're happy about that?"

She nods. "I am," she confirms. "I just...I hope it's not too soon. After everything..."

"If you're not comfortable with it..." Burke begins.

"No, no, I am," Kate interjects. "I practically live there anyway."

"You're alright with that?" he asks, mild surprise lacing his voice, because if he's learned one thing about Kate Beckett over the last two years, it's that she's intensely private. So to be sharing a home with someone...he knows that's not something she'd ever take lightly.

"I am," she agrees without hesitation. "And I think it'll be good for us. Kind of like a trial run."

"A trial run?"

"For when we're married," she blurts, the words spilling out, completely unwelcome, and yet now that they're out there, she knows there's no way to take them back.

The doctor nods thoughtfully, maintaining his calm façade. "So that's where you believe the two of you are headed?"

Kate shrugs, knows better than to try to deny it at this point. "Eventually."

"And yet you're not engaged?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't think we're ready," Kate hedges.

"You don't have to be," Burke points out. "It's an engagement, not a marriage."

"But if we're not ready to be married, how can we get engaged?" she asks.

"And yet you see the two of you eventually married."

"_Eventually_," she highlights. "But we need to give ourselves a fighting chance before we start thinking about that."

"Yet you're going to be living together," Burke continues, unfazed by her outburst.

"But...that's not..." Kate stammers, the words all jumbled together in her mind now. She's so twisted up by all of this, by what it means for them and for the future. "I don't know anymore."

"You don't know what?" he asks, and she finds herself wanting to groan, because all she wants to do is curl up in a ball and stop being forced to sort through all of this in her mind. But that's what she's here for, she reminds herself.

"I guess what I thought it meant to be engaged doesn't line up with what other people think," she says after a moment.

"Does Castle understand this?"

"I don't think so," she admits.

Yeah, they definitely need to add this to the list of conversations to be had.

Burke sits forward, clasps his hands together in front of him as his elbows come to rest on his knees. "Well, perhaps this is a good place to end for today."

Kate uncurls her legs, feet hitting the floor with a soft thud.

"I think you probably know what to do from here."

"I hope so," she states uneasily.

"Talk to him, Kate," he encourages gently. "Tell him what you've told me."

"You think that's enough?" she asks worriedly.

"If not, I think it's a good place to start," the doctor comments as they both get to their feet.

Kate thanks him on her way out of the office, the only two words she can manage amidst the whirlwind of thoughts going through her mind. She's not used to covering quite so much ground in one session, and it's exhausting and stressful and, if possible, she's more confused now than she was before.

She pushes open the front door with her shoulder, steps onto the sidewalk, Dr. Burke's parting words still ringing in her head.

_If you ever want to bring him with you for one of our sessions, I don't think it could hurt._

Kate has no idea how she feels about that.

* * *

"Hey, where were you?"

Kate slips off her shoes, pads over to the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools, depositing her phone and keys on the counter next to her. "Talking to my therapist."

Castle raises an eyebrow, sets his iPad aside. "Oh?"

She nods. "I thought it'd be good to get an outside perspective on things."

"And?"

"It was," she confirms with a smile, leaning in to press her lips to his. "Dinner smells good."

"Takeout," he offers, standing and crossing to the bag on the counter, extracting containers from their favorite Chinese place. "I know it's not fancy, but..."

"It's perfect," Kate assures him, getting to her feet to assist, grabbing the bottle of red he has chilling in the fridge and pulling down a couple of glasses from the cabinet.

"So," Castle prompts when they've settled back in with their food.

Kate raises an eyebrow, twists a selection of noodles around the ends of her chopsticks.

"I want to ask you what he said, but I don't know if I can do that," he admits awkwardly.

She swallows, smiles as she reaches for her wine. "I don't mind."

Well, that's not entirely true. She does mind. Therapy has always been a very private thing for her, something that very few people know about. And she's never talked about it with anyone, except maybe a few words to her dad almost eleven years ago as she fought to put her life back together while his continued to fall apart. But it never did any good, so she stopped trying.

But Burke was right; Castle needs to know these things. As private as it may seem, these are things they need to talk about, and she's going to have to learn to open up to him.

"You told him everything?" Castle begins, not sure where else to start.

Kate nods. "I think by this point he knows at least the basics since we first met."

"God, he must think I'm an ass." He chuckles around a poorly disguised grimace, shakes his head at his former self.

"I think he likes you, Castle," she promises. "He knows you're good for me."

"I'm glad," he offers, because what else can he say, really?

"He wants this," she gestures between them with her chopsticks, "to work out."

"He does?"

Kate nods. "I mean, he's not allowed to say one way or the other. But he's helping me work through things and figure out what to say."

"What to say to me, you mean?"

She nods again. "I, uh," she begins. "I think there's something I need to explain to you. He helped me realize that I was thinking of being engaged as being ready to get married."

"But it's not," Castle points out.

"That's what he said too," she concedes.

"You don't agree?"

"I don't know," Kate admits. "I think I see his point."

Castle hazards a guess. "But it's still strange to you?"

She nods, traps a piece of chicken between her chopsticks and pops it into her mouth. "A bit."

"So when you said not yet..." he begins cautiously, "you meant that you're not ready to get married yet?"

"I'm not ready to start actually thinking about getting married," Kate explains. "Or, well...I want us to get married. Someday. But not until we fix," she sweeps her arm out to the side, "this."

"I can see that," he concedes with a thoughtful nod.

She smiles in relief. They have a long way to go, but they're getting there. The progress is tangible now.

"Come here," Castle says suddenly, setting his utensils down and rising to his feet. Kate lifts curious eyes to his but submits, takes the proffered hand and follows him across the loft and into his office.

He guides them to the desk, one hand still linked securely with hers. He reaches for the ring, and Kate starts to shake her head rapidly, holds up her free hand to stop him, because whatever he's about to do, she's pretty sure she's not ready for it.

"Castle..."

He loosens his grip, reaches up to catch her free hand in his. He presses the ring into her palm, gently closes her fingers around it.

"You should hang on to it," she murmurs, still shaking her head.

"No." He holds firm. "You already know where I stand. When you're ready..."

Kate lifts her eyes to his, surprised, finds only deep understanding and patience reflected back at her. Once again, he's waiting for her, waiting for her to come to terms with what this means, with what lies ahead for them.

This wonderful, kind, loving man. She's not sure she'll ever deserve him.

She unfurls her fingers, looks back down at the ring, the beautiful, shimmering object that represents her future. Their future. Kate smiles as the images play through her mind, white dresses and dances and sunshine and sex and morning coffee in bed and maybe even the pitter patter of little tiny feet across the floor someday. Forever, here in the loft, with him.

Words fail her, so instead she presses onto tiptoe, leans in and touches her lips to his in silent affirmation.

Soon.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	20. Chapter 20

_Author's Note: To all of you who review on anon, I wish I could thank you personally. But since I can't, I'm doing so now. Thank you :)_

* * *

**Chapter 20**

The week passes in a whirlwind as the team works to wrap up the case before Memorial Weekend. Ryan and Jenny are headed upstate to visit her parents, and though Esposito is remaining tight-lipped about his plans, everyone knows they involve a certain ME.

Now it's Friday afternoon and Kate is just finishing up the last bit of paperwork before five o'clock rolls around. Castle took off about an hour ago under the premise of needing to pack, but in reality, he figured it wouldn't hurt to give Kate a bit of space before the weekend. After all, she'd seemed a bit tentative about their plans, and he has a nagging feeling that sometime else is going on here. Something that he can't pinpoint.

_"Please, Kate? It's Memorial Day," Castle pleads, eyes deep blue and imploring from across the dining room table._

_"I know, but..."_

_She trails off, sighs, and he prompts her to continue. "But what?"_

_She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, he can see the steeliness in her gaze. Because she's had way too much experience with deflection and repression and avoidance, and she's learned the hard way that they don't work. And she's not about to continue making the same mistakes again._

_"Running away isn't going to fix things, Castle."_

_"I know," he promises. "I know. But I think it'll be good for us to get away."_

_She leans back, closes her eyes, images of their last trip to the Hamptons playing behind her eyelids. Sunshine, summer, the beauty of the house and the calm of the ocean. Maybe he's right. Maybe it will be good for them._

_If nothing else, it gives them the freedom to work on their relationship outside of the confines of the city and the loft and the precinct. It gives them time to come to grips with where they stand now and to start re-solidifying their foundation and continuing to build on what they already have._

_"Okay," she agrees eventually, and Castle's answering smile makes her concession completely worthwhile._

Kate sighs, glances at the clock in the corner of her screen. Four forty one. Nineteen minutes until the weekend. She should be excited. And part of her is. But the small voice in the back of her mind can't stop reminding her about the last time he invited her to the Hamptons on Memorial Day.

The way it ended up very nearly tearing them apart.

She didn't mention it when he invited her, but she knows it's probably going to end up coming up at some point over the weekend, another in the long line of conversations they've never had but desperately need to.

Kate sighs again, absently scrawls her name across the line at the bottom of the sheet and stacks it with the others, closes the folder.

Done, with sixteen minutes to spare.

She stands, takes her time in stacking the files and storing them away before returning to her desk and beginning to rearrange various objects. She reorganizes her cup of pens so they all slide in neatly, straightens up her drawers, checks her email before shutting down her computer.

Ryan and Esposito are chatting happily in the background and Kate finds herself wishing she felt the same enthusiasm about her upcoming vacation. She's not entirely sure what's holding her back because, all things considered, it's been a pretty good week. She and Castle are back on solid ground. He's been spending his days at the precinct and she's been spending her nights in his bed. Progressively more of her belongings are finding their way to the loft, and though she hasn't officially moved in yet, she also hasn't been to her apartment for anything other than grabbing clothes for the next day and boxing up a few random items here and there.

Her lease is up at the end of the month, which gives her a few days once they return to finalize everything and move the remainder of her belongings into the loft.

She hasn't figured out yet what to do with her furniture and other larger items...they won't need them at the loft, but the possessive part of her wants to cling to them, not quite ready to give them up.

Maybe that means she's not quite ready to move in, either, but she told him she would and she wants to and she's not going to renege on her word. She's just going to have to force herself to move past this hang up.

It'll probably be good for her.

At least, she hopes that's how it plays out.

* * *

The moment five o'clock rolls around, the entire bullpen empties almost immediately, everyone headed out to kick off summer in style. Kate exits the precinct, surprised to find Castle standing at the curb, car loaded and ready to go. He's dressed down into jeans and a casual t-shirt, and she can't help but smile as her eyes coast over his form.

He looks fabulous in a suit, but she likes him even better this way, all relaxed and open and so very appealing.

He catches her around the waist as she approaches, pulls her in for a sweet kiss. Kate smiles into it, can't help herself, because despite the doubts clouding the back of her mind and the memories she can't quite suppress, she's excited for the weekend. She loves the Hamptons and, frankly, she's looking forward to having a break from work.

"Ready?" Castle asks with a cheerful smile.

She leans back in, presses her lips to his once more. "Let's go."

* * *

"Can I ask you something?"

Kate hums her permission, relaxes further into the bed. She's curled on her right side in bed, propped up on one elbow, naked and sated and glowing in the near darkness. Castle is mimicking her position, his free hand tracing the curve of her waist, fingers currently fixated on the long, thin scar that cuts across her skin. It's faded some now, still pinkish and slightly puckered around the edges, but it doesn't stand out as much as it used to.

Often when they're in bed, Castle pauses to press a kiss to the scar on her chest, and she still sometimes sees it flicker in his eyes when they fall upon the marred skin, the horrific memories of that day two years ago. But he doesn't normally pay this one any special attention. Something about today, though, has him caught up with it, and she can see in his eyes that he's sorting through his thoughts, making sense of the words he wants to say.

She waits him out quietly, eyes searching his, before he finally speaks.

"What did you do that summer?"

"Recovered," she answers, starting with the simple answer, the one that takes the least amount of though. The one that she hopes will cause the least amount of pain. "Once I got out of the hospital, I went up to my dad's cabin."

"That's it?"

"A lot of physical therapy," she adds. "I was so weak I could hardly move at first."

He nods thoughtfully.

"It was awful," Kate blurts suddenly, shaking her head sadly as the unbridled truth spills from her lips. "I was in so much pain. There were tears in my eyes almost constantly. At least, that's what it felt like."

"I wish I'd been there," Castle says apologetically.

"I don't."

"Kate..."

"I was a mess, Castle. It...wasn't pleasant."

"It wouldn't have mattered to me."

She smiles sweetly at him, at how firmly he believes that. But she's not sure she believes him. He wasn't there. He didn't see the person she was during that summer.

And that was very much intentional.

"I missed you," Castle admits, the words pulling her from her thoughts as they roll off his tongue. "Every single day."

Kate reaches out, runs a hand over his bare chest, settling at the base of his ribs, palm spanning the warmth of his skin as her thumb sweeps gently back and forth. "I missed you too," she admits.

"Why didn't you call?"

She hangs her head, wishing she had a better answer to give him, because it was a question she asked herself every single day. She had her reasons and she knows he understands them. She just wishes she could have handled it better. "Because I heard you," she admits. She knows he knows that, though she's never been exactly sure how he found out. But this is the first time she's ever actually voiced the words to him. "And I didn't know how to deal with that. I wasn't even sure you meant it," she adds when Castle doesn't speak.

"I meant it," he murmurs, fingers still outlining the raised skin on her side, curling around to trace the arc of her ribs.

"I know that now," she assures him. "But at the time..."

"It was too much," Castle finishes for her. "I get it."

She smiles at him, thankful, so thankful that he understands, that he's been so patient with her for so long.

"That's why I broke up with Josh." She offers what she can, knowing that it can never make up for what she did but hoping it can at least help make it better. "Why I went back to therapy."

Castle opens his mouth to speak, hesitates, closes it again.

"What?"

A shake of his head.

"What, Castle?"

"I uh..." he begins uncomfortably. "When did it all come back to you?"

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath before opening them again. This is going to hurt. She knows it is. And she hates it.

"The moment I woke up."

His hand stills and hers falls to the bed between them.

"I wasn't sure if you'd actually said it or I just imagined it," Kate elucidates. "Not at first. But as soon as I saw you..."

She knew. She'd known even then, when he was right there in the room with her. Castle has always had his suspicions, but now they've been confirmed.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, hand lifting to rest on his bicep, fingers stroking over his skin in a gentle caress. Comforting, soothing, she hopes. "I'm so sorry."

He doesn't answer, offers no acceptance, but what can she expect him to say, really? It was an enormous lie, a source of pain and distrust, and though they've managed to move past it, she knows the memory of it is probably always going to sting.

"How did you find out?" Kate probes after an uncomfortable moment.

"I had my doubts," he admits. "You never looked at me when you talked about it."

"Mmm," she acknowledges. Sometimes she forgets just how astute he is, how well he's able to read her. She loves it and hates it at times, depending on the situation.

"But I heard you admit it during the bombing case," Castle continues, and Kate jerks her gaze up to him in shock. "You were interrogating the pickpocket."

"And I told him I remembered," she recalls softly, sorrowfully. "I didn't know you were watching. I'm so sorry, Castle."

She expects a comment, a retort, something. But then he's gathering her up in his arms and pulling her to him, murmuring a soft, "come here." He rolls onto his back, Kate curled into his side, and she hugs him back tightly, clinging to him with everything she has.

"I'm so sorry," she says again. It's not enough, will never be enough, but it's in the past and at this point, an apology is all she has to offer.

Castle takes a shaky breath, holds her tighter, and she can sense the way he's battling with the memories, incorporating what he's just learned with his previous feelings of that summer, her deceit.

"I'm just glad you're here now."

* * *

He loosens his grip eventually, relaxing into the bed, and Kate rolls over so her back is to him. Castle scoots right up behind her, one arm draping heavily over her waist, a leg snuggled between hers. She covers his hand with her own, guiding them to rest between her breasts, to feel the strong beat of her heart beneath her skin.

She nestles into the cove of his body, top of her head beneath his chin, and he presses his lips to her scalp before settling in, two sets of eyes tracing the bright crescent moon rising over the water, the thousands of stars shining down from above.

"I love it out here," Kate whispers, almost as though she's reading his mind.

"It's so peaceful," he agrees softly.

"I'm glad we came," she admits.

He frees his thumb from her grip, begins to brush it lightly back and forth across her sternum, the touch gentle and loving. A shiver races through her at the tender gesture and Castle holds her tighter in response.

"Me too."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your continued support with this one. I've never tried to write so many words in such a short time, but all of the lovely encouragement makes it so much easier._

* * *

**Chapter 21 **

A trail of kisses up the ridge of her spine. Warm breath on her skin.

Kate sleepily smiles into her pillow, releases a relaxed sigh as the kisses change direction, following the sharp line of her shoulder blade. She can almost sense him above her, propped on his elbows and knees, the warmth of his body filling the space between them.

Kate blinks open her eyes in the early morning sunrise, rolls onto her back beneath him.

"Mmmm, morning," he murmurs, ignoring morning breath and capturing her lips in a long kiss.

She lazily lifts a leg, wraps it around his thigh, tugging him down over her. She loves being on top, and she knows _he_ loves when she's on top, but there's nothing quite like the feeling of his body over hers, pressing her solidly into the bed.

Castle settles in above her, lips leaving hers to trail across her jaw, and she melts into the pillows, allows the feeling to overtake her, the love that exudes from his every caress.

His name escapes her on a whimper as his lips close around her ear lobe, biting gently before soothing it with his tongue. Kate loops one arm around his neck, the other hand sliding into his hair, holding him close.

It's a blur after that, his lips and hands and teeth all over her skin, sliding down her body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. She's writhing beneath him almost before she knows what's happening, and the next thing she's cognizant of is the tremors wracking her body as she floats down from her orgasm, body cradled delicately in Castle's arms as she comes back to herself.

He's gazing down on her with a mixture of pride and tender love, and she smiles softly, can't contain her feelings for this man, overwhelmed by how much he loves her. How much she loves him. She's fallen so much farther than she ever thought possible.

Kate sinks back into the pillow, closes her eyes, brain hazy with sleep and lust and the aftereffects of his expert ministrations. Castle still looms above her, propped on his elbows to avoid crushing her, but their hips are firmly pressed together and she can feel him against her, hot and hard pressing into her thigh. His head rests in the crook of her neck, lips against her skin, hot breath sending ripples of arousal cascading through her. It's a long moment before she opens her eyes again but somehow Castle senses it, lifts his head to seek her gaze. But she's faster, catching him completely off guard as she flips them, rising above him as he suddenly finds himself flat on his back in the giant bed.

Kate sends a saucy smirk his way, hips dropping down onto his, rolling back and forth, but before she has the chance to take him inside of her, he's teasing right back, pressing up into a seated position, legs beneath hers, pelvis coming into sharp contact with hers. Her head drops back as a wave flutters through her, firm pressure against her already stimulated core, and she clings to him, fingers digging into her shoulders as she fights for control. His hands settle on her hips, gently guiding her up onto her knees, and she lifts up, taking him inside of her as she sinks back down. She tips her chin forward again, forehead coming to rest against his as Castle wraps his arms around her lower back, holding her to him, chest to chest.

Her arms loop around his neck and she brings him in for a hot kiss, tongues tangling, lips locking as she begins to move above him.

She rises slowly, allowing him to almost slip out of her before sliding back down, sheathing him inside of her once again, a low moan escaping her lips at the feeling. Maybe it's the angle, or maybe it's the closeness, the feeling of his skin against hers from hips to shoulders, or maybe it's the way they move together, rocking back and forth in synchrony.

Whatever it is, Kate feels her walls begin to flutter, traveling through her body in waves every time their hips come into contact. From his stuttered breathing, she can tell Castle isn't far behind her, and it's not long before they're falling over the edge together, trembling bodies moving together, coaxing the last vestiges of release from one another before collapsing into each other.

Eventually, Castle falls backwards and Kate follows, plastered to his chest as he settles into the pillows with her sprawled on top of him. The sun is rising over the water, glinting off the tips of the rippling waves, the pattern mesmerizing in its repetition, and Kate finds herself drifting off to the distant sounds of birds chirping and the water gently crashing into the shore.

Castle feels her go limp above him, limbs heavy and sated as she relaxes into him. He wraps his arms around her more tightly, hands spreading to span the skin of her back, tracing patterns up and down the exposed flesh.

Beautiful view outside, beautiful woman sleeping naked on top of him. Castle sighs happily, eyes drifting shut as a blissful sleep pulls him under.

Best morning ever.

* * *

The weekend passes far too rapidly, a combination of sun and sand and a near complete lack of clothing. They even manage to skinny dip this time without being rudely interrupted by a dying man ("I had the pool drained and thoroughly doused in bleach. Multiple times," Castle promises.).

They spend their days on the beach and their evenings sharing delicious home-cooked meals. Kate has never considered herself to be clingy, and surprisingly, Castle isn't either. And yet they spend very little time apart. Between sleeping in each other's arms, eating meals with their ankles twined beneath the table and their fingers linked on the wooden surface, snuggling on the beach, and multiple long, _hot, _showers, they're together almost constantly. Maybe there's still lingering insecurity on both sides from their recent fights, or maybe it's just the excitement of being back on solid ground once again.

But whatever it is, Kate can't shake the feeling that it's too good, too perfect. That they've fallen back into the trap of lots of sex and not enough words.

She doesn't want to slide back into their previous pattern, tries hard to resist it. But then Castle comes walking out onto the beach clad in only low-slung swim trunks, or he drags her into the shower, or he steps up behind her as she watches the moonrise, hugs her to his chest, and all coherent thought vanishes from her mind.

It's making her crazy. _He _makes her crazy.

And she's seemingly powerless against it.

* * *

It's Monday afternoon before things finally come crashing down around them. They're getting ready to head back to the city, their departure already delayed by Castle's sexy proposition that Kate join him in the shower. A shower that ended up being nearly forty minutes long.

Now she stands in the bedroom clad in a robe and her undergarments as she searches for something comfortable for the ride home. Castle steps up behind her clad in only his boxers, reaches around and slowly unties her robe, begins to strip it from her body. She swats his hands away but he persists, leading her to whirl around, hands on her hips, robe hanging partially open over her torso.

"I thought we were getting ready to head back," Kate points out. It's already five in the afternoon and she has to head into the precinct in the morning.

"We are," Castle answers sultrily, loosening the tie the rest of the way until the garment hangs completely open, and he slips his hands beneath the fabric to settle on her hips. "But not until I get you naked one last time in our bed."

Kate freezes, entire body going rigid beneath his tender touch, and Castle senses the change, halts his motions. "What?"

"_Our_ bed?" she repeats.

"Well, I mean, we're living together now, right?"

"In Manhattan."

"What's mine is yours?" he states, though it comes out as more of a tentative question.

She whirls around. "Castle."

"What?"

"This place is huge," she exclaims. "And it's yours. I could never..."

"Kate..."

"No," she protests with a shake of her head. She's not after his money. She never has been. Her parents were well off and she's managed to do fairly well for herself too, but she's no millionaire, and she's not interested in co-owning a mansion.

Hell, she's pretty sure she can't even afford a month's rent for the loft, but that's a whole different conversation.

Castle grabs the edges of her robe, tugs her towards him. "Come here," he deflects, sliding his fingers beneath the edges of the fabric and guiding it off of her shoulders.

But Kate halts him, shrugs the robe back on. "Stop."

"Kate, please," he begs. "Can we just...talk about this later."

Never would be preferable, but as that's not a viable option, she'd rather get it out of the way now. The sooner he understands her feelings about this, the better it'll be for both of them.

"No."

He sighs, crosses his arms over his chest, and she's momentarily distracted by the definition of his biceps, the way it feels to be wrapped up in them. "Fine. Talk."

"This is your place," she begins. "I can't...I don't want..." she stammers, not even sure how to say this. "I'm not rich, Castle. And I don't want to be. That's not what I'm after."

"I know," he assures her. "And I've always appreciated that about you. But we're starting a life together, Kate. And that means we share things. Everything."

She shakes her head vehemently. She's just come to grips with moving into the loft, with the ring that sits in a small velvet box in the nightstand on her side of the bed. But this...she doesn't even know how to process this.

"What if I don't want that?" she asks finally.

"Look," Castle says, tugging on her robe again until she steps forward. "Obviously this is something that's going to take some thought. But it's not something that needs to be dealt with right now. We can talk it over later, maybe with my accountant. Get some outside advice. But, Kate, I'm not trying to force you to be someone you're not. I _want_ to share these things with you."

"I know," she concedes. She believes him. He has a generous heart, and it shouldn't surprise her, really. But it's also not something she's going to come to terms with right away.

In less than three weeks, she's gone from dating Castle to moving in with him and agreeing to marry him some day in the future. She feels like she's gone from zero to sixty in about three seconds, and she's not sure she's prepared for this.

She's not sure she ever actually will be.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's Note: Okay, so the last chapter didn't go over so well. I didn't exactly expect it to. I even expected the rude anon reviews, so thank you to the couple of you who took the time to leave those. To everyone else who politely expressed their thoughts and/or concerns, please remember that change a lifetime's worth of habits and tendencies doesn't happen overnight, nor does it happen without relapses. And money is one of the most common causes of relationship conflicts._

* * *

**Chapter 22**

"Hey guys?"

They whirl around in unison, mugs of coffee in hand, and Kate bites back a smirk because for as much as they tease her and Castle for being so in sync, she doesn't think they realize how in tune they are as well.

"Yeah?" Esposito asks, breaking her train of thought.

"Can I...ask you a favor?"

The normal confidence in her voice is gone, replaced by a tentative lilt, and Ryan cocks his head curiously, intrigued as to the cause of this unusual change in mannerisms. "Of course."

"We'll buy you pizza and beer," she adds, still tiptoeing around the actual question.

Esposito nods to himself, an idea already forming in his mind as to where this conversation is headed. "Any particular reason?" he probes, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"I'm uh...I need help moving some furniture."

"Ahhh," Ryan vocalizes as the pieces fall into place. "Any particular place this furniture needs to go?"

"To a storage unit," Kate replies, recognizing their teasing and opting to be coy. Two can play at this game.

"So you're just going to live on the floor of your apartment now?"

She's struck with the urge to stick her tongue out, has to force it back.

Thankfully Ryan comes to her rescue. Sort of. "So why don't you need your furniture anymore?"

"I'm moving, okay," she admits finally, the words spilling out rapidly, as though the faster she says them the easier this will be. She never has been very good at asking for help.

He raises an eyebrow, pretends not to already know the answer to his next question. "Oh? Where to?"

She glances over her shoulder, ensuring Gates is out of earshot. Plausible deniability is going to get a whole lot more difficult when she has to change her contact information in her personnel file; she'd rather not complicate things until it's absolutely necessary.

"Castle's."

"'Bout damn time," Esposito chimes in, exchanging a competitive glance with his partner.

"So," she asks, slightly more confident now. "Will you?"

They nod in accord, turn back to Kate synchronously. "We'll be there," Espo answers, fist-bumping his partner's hand.

She breathes a sigh of relief at having survived that conversation and acquired the necessary help. She loves those two. She really does. She just expected a lot more ribbing about this. And maybe she'll still get it. Maybe they're just saving it for moving day. But either way, she's glad to have their apparent support.

"Thanks, guys." She offers a smile and they return the gesture, Ryan's eyes twinkling, Espo half-shrugging one shoulder.

"Don't mention it."

He turns away first, summoned by the ringing phone on his desk, leaving Ryan alone with Beckett, a supportive and gentle smile on his face.

"Beckett," he offers tentatively. She hums her acknowledgment. "I'm happy for you guys."

She smiles, glances over her shoulder at her partner, perched against the edge of her desk, eyes combing over the evidence on the murder board. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

"About the other day. In the Hamptons," Castle says in a low voice, setting their newly-washed breakfast dishes into a box on the kitchen counter before joining her in the living room.

She whirls around, seeking him out. "Hmmm?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Kate assures him, resting a hand on his chest. She doesn't want him to apologize for his kind heart, his giving nature. She doesn't want him to feel like he has to suppress parts of himself when he's with her. "It was just unexpected."

"So you're okay with it?" he asks tentatively.

She's not okay with it yet, still hasn't completely come to grips with it all, with what a life with Castle truly means. Nevertheless, she smiles gently. "Let's move me into the loft first, yeah?"

Castle grins broadly, enveloping her in his arms, and he's just leaning in for a kiss when a knock sounds on the front door.

"Boys are here," she says against his lips.

"Mmmm," he murmurs, pulling her back in before she has a chance to step out of his arms, kissing her soundly.

Another knock.

"Castle."

"Hmmm?"

"Stop playing kissy face and let us in," calls a voice from the hallway, and they burst into laughter, stepping apart so Kate can cross the foyer, swing open the door.

"Hey, guys."

She steps back to let them in as Castle walks up next to her, and the boys extend their hands in turn, acting out some elaborate handshake that she's not sure she's ever going to get the hang of.

Kate shakes her head affectionately, leaves them to chat while she goes about placing the last of her belongings in boxes, labeling the top and sides with a large black sharpie. It's bittersweet, packing up her things, preparing to leave her apartment. Sure, she's only been here three years and, if she's honest with herself, not really all that much recently. She doesn't have much of sentimental value, the majority either still at her dad's house or having been destroyed when Dunn blew up her old place. She's not particularly attached to her furniture either.

But still...it's her stuff. She remembers telling Castle once that everyone needs their stuff. That it's comforting. And it is. But she's finding now that getting rid of her stuff, even under these circumstances, is less than comforting. Sure, most of it is going with her. But some of it is going into storage until they can sell it, and though it's been over two weeks since she agreed to move in and though she's spent only one night at her place since then, it's only now just beginning to feel real. It's only now hitting her that she's not going to live here anymore. She's going to be living with Castle.

If all goes as planned, she'll be there for the rest of her life.

And that's...huge.

His voice behind her startles her from her thoughts and she jerks in surprise as Castle greets her with a, "hey."

"Hey," she replies with a small smile.

"Lanie's here. You ready to get started?"

She nods, her smile growing. "Sure."

It takes them most of the afternoon to empty out her old place, she and Lanie carrying boxes while the guys wrangle with the furniture, attempting to shove the sofa into the elevator, getting her mattress through the doorway. It's entertaining to watch but by the time they're fully loaded up and heading to the loft, it's not so amusing any more.

Because they still have to unload everything.

* * *

It's nearly ten pm by the time Ryan, Esposito, and Lanie leave, full of pizza and beer and thoroughly exhausted from a day of heavy lifting. Boxes are scattered all over the loft, very few of them unpacked, but Castle can't help but smile because all of Kate's belongings are here.

She lives with him now.

They don't really have the energy to do too much unpacking tonight, but a couple boxes are already opened and so she reaches in, begins mindlessly extracting items and slipping them into place next to his. A couple of books on the shelves, a knick-knack on the mantle, a set of decorative coasters from her father on the end table. Castle watches in silent awe as she makes herself at home, willingly intertwining their possessions, two lives becoming one. It's never been this seamless before.

"This is already so much better than when Gina moved in," he blurts suddenly, the words completely unwelcome. He curses under his breath for allowing the transient thought to escape, effectively ruining the beauty of this moment.

The silence that descends is deafening, and as Kate slowly turns to face him, arm awkwardly extended in front of her, Castle sinks down on the stairs, elbows on his knees, face in his hands.

"Right," he says softly.

Kate crosses to sit next to him, shoulder to shoulder, nudges him in gentle encouragement. She hasn't exactly been looking forward to this conversation, but it's one that definitely needs to be had. Apparently now is the time.

"What happened?" she asks after a moment. Maybe diving in and getting this over with will ease the tension a bit.

"We made sense," Castle begins, lifting his head slowly, but his eyes focus on a point on the opposite wall rather than her. "She wanted a steady relationship and I wanted a mother-figure for Alexis. We'd known each other socially for years. I asked her to a publicity event just as colleagues but somehow it turned into more. We ended up dating for about a year and things were mostly going well so marriage just seemed to be the next logical step."

"But it wasn't," he admits with a self-deprecating scoff. "Of course that's always clearer in retrospect. She'd always been bossy and overbearing. It's what makes her so good at her job. But pretty soon our professional life spilled over into our home life. I wanted them to be separate. I wanted time to be a father and go to the Hamptons and go out and have fun and just be me, but Gina couldn't accept that. We fought about it constantly, and eventually the fights were all we had left."

"I'm sorry," she offers softly.

"She accused me of sheltering Alexis from her and not letting her in," Castle continues. He's never really spoken of this to anyone but now that he's started, it feels good to let it all out.

Kate nods in acknowledgement.

"She wasn't wrong," he concedes.

"You didn't trust her," Kate murmurs in understanding.

He shakes his head. "I guess not. I mean, Meredith _cheated._ She decided I wasn't good enough for her, and then she left me behind - left _Alexis_ behind - to pick up the pieces. How do you get over that?"

Kate places a hand gently on his knee, squeezes soothingly. "I don't know," she admits. She's never been cheated on, never had to face a situation like this. Hell, she's never even had a relationship go far enough that the breakup was all that devastating. She has no idea what she'd have done in his situation and she certainly doesn't have any decent advice.

"The second time?" she asks instead, a gentle nudge forward.

Castle shakes his head. "I was hurting. I didn't want to be alone, and she was familiar. I'd loved her once, so I figured I could love her again but...it doesn't work that way, I guess."

"I'm sorry, Castle."

He reaches out, covers her hand with his on his leg. "Truth is, I think I was already falling in love with someone else."

Kate closes her eyes, blinks back the harsh flood of tears. She drops her head to his shoulder, flips her hand over to link their fingers together, and the contact grounds her, helps suppress the painful memories of that summer. But his words also bring out the truth, the one she's never spoken aloud to anyone, not even herself in the silence of her apartment.

"I think I was too."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	23. Chapter 23

_Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your kind reviews last chapter and for sticking with me through this journey. I know it's not always easy...but when is it ever for these two?_

* * *

**Chapter 23**

"What?" His reaction is instantaneous, fingers clenching between hers as his grip tightens.

Right. They've never discussed this, never even acknowledged it. It's been shoved so far down into the box of things they never talk about that Kate almost can't believe how well she can remember it. Then again, it's not like she could ever forget.

"I broke up with him, Castle," Kate begins.

"Demming?" he asks, the name bitter as it rolls off his tongue.

She nods.

"I know."

"No, not...not over the summer," she amends with a shake of her head. "Before you left."

"Before..." he replays it in his mind, everything suddenly so crystal clear in light of her revelation. The smiles she sent his way that day, the way she asked to talk to him in private, the nervousness in her words as she started to speak. "'Have a good summer,'" he quotes. "That wasn't what you were planning to say, was it?"

Kate shakes her head sadly, eyes downcast, hair falling in cascading waves along the sides of her face.

"God, I'm such an idiot," he murmurs.

She lifts her head, determined to defend him. "You had no way of knowing."

"But if I'd waited..."

"For what?" she interjects. "Me to say no one more time?"

Castle shakes his head. "So you never went away that weekend?"

"No. Well, Lanie dragged me out to a bar that night."

He hums his answer, lost in thought.

"Castle," Kate calls, an attempt to regain his attention. When he doesn't respond she reaches out, catches his chin and tilts it up until he meets her eyes. "It's okay."

"It's not," he replies automatically.

"It is," she says again. "Because if we'd gotten together back then..."

The rest is left unsaid, but they both can see it in their minds, all the ways it could have played out. Most of them don't end well, and certainly not with them still together. If her shooting hadn't torn them apart, she's certain something else would have. Probably the same thing that's managed to very nearly tear them apart now.

"What, umm," he clears his throat, speaks again. "What changed your mind?"

"Esposito," Kate murmurs.

"What?"

"He seemed to think you wouldn't come back in the fall. Said you weren't just hanging around for the books anymore."

"Smart guy," Castle muses.

"Mmm," she agrees. "Made me realize how much I liked having you around."

"You mean how much you liked _me_," he appends smugly.

"Shut up."

He mimes zipping his lips, adorable puppy dog eyes blinking up at her, and she rolls her eyes in reply but can't resist leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. Damn him and the way he knows how to bypass all of her defenses.

"When did it stop being about the books?" she asks curiously after a minute.

Castle motions to his lips, mimicking a zipper, and Kate rolls her eyes again, but the gesture is loving. Such a child sometimes. Nevertheless, she finds herself reaching out to unzip his lips, indulging his playfulness.

"When you told me about your mom."

The entire feel of the room changes then, lightness gone, replaced by solemnity.

"What changed?"

"I realized how much I was starting to actually care about you," Castle answers. "Your mom's case...it wasn't about Nikki. It was about you and the closure you deserved."

Kate nods slowly, thoughtfully, sifting back through the memories. That was so long ago. They'd worked just a few cases. She was still firmly resisting having him around, and yet he was already falling for her. Almost five years ago.

Wow.

"I never meant to hurt you," he adds when she doesn't speak.

Kate lifts her eyes to his, brown meeting blue in the golden lamplight. She settles a hand on his thigh, squeezes gently. "I know, Castle."

* * *

He finds her in the office the next morning, a picture of himself with a young Alexis in her hand and a gentle smile on her face. His daughter's senior picture sits on the desk as well, next to the newly printed shot of he and Kate on the beach at the Hamptons a few months back. It was hardly posed, more of a sudden "let's take a picture" type of shot, but he absolutely loves it. Her hair is gently ruffled by the breeze, face devoid of makeup, smile absolutely radiant. She looks gorgeous, skin kissed by the sun, love and laughter in her eyes because instead of smiling, he'd leaned in and pressed a smacking kiss to her cheek.

She lifts her head at the sound of his footsteps, smiles gently. "Morning."

"Hey," he greets with a smile. "You're up early."

She shrugs. "Figured I'd get an early start on the cleaning."

"Mmmm."

"You're absolutely sure Alexis is okay with this?" she questions, setting the picture back in its place.

Ah. So that's what's holding her up.

He'd spoken with his daughter the morning after Kate agreed to move in, and while she'd initially been skeptical of the Detective's reasons and a bit possessive of both her father and their space, she'd come around once he explained their eventual plans for engagement, the lengths to which Kate had been going to prove her commitment.

Of course, it is entirely possible that the true issues won't arrive until she returns from her jaunt in the jungle, but if that's the case, Castle will deal with it when the time comes. In the meantime, he doesn't want it to disrupt their new living arrangements, wants to bask in the excitement.

"She's fine with it," he assures her. "Promise."

Kate raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Okay, so she wasn't pleased at first," he admits. "But she also hasn't been around the two of us in a while. Don't worry about it. Please. She'll come around."

"Okay," she replies, abiding by his request. But the reality is that until she speaks with the girl for herself, part of her is still probably going to harbor that lingering doubt. She'll suppress it for now, though, because Alexis won't be back for another month and a half. And in the meantime, she wants to enjoy this new phase of her life.

Of their life.

Together.

* * *

"So how's living with Writer Boy?" Lanie asks as she refills their wine glasses, the burgundy liquid swirling around the inside of the goblets.

Kate smirks, tries to disguise it around a sip of the newly-poured beverage. "Good."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Don't play coy with me, Kate Beckett," she demands, determined to make the most of their evening get together. "I want details."

"Lanie, it's only been a day."

"So?"

She shrugs. "So it's not that much different from before."

Lanie smugly raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up."

"I'm just surprised you've realized that you two have practically been living together for the past year."

"No we haven't," Kate protest instantly. Just because they spent the vast majority of nights together doesn't mean they were living together.

"I'm sorry, how much of your closet was already empty when I helped you pack it up?" her friend sasses.

"I've been slowly moving things over," Kate defends, maintaining her point of view on the matter.

"Mmhmm."

"Lanie..."

"Hey. I'm happy for you guys," she soothes, raising her glass to her lips and taking a small sip. "'Bout damn time you put on your big girl pants. Now there's just the matter of putting that ring on your finger."

Kate chokes on her wine, very nearly spraying it across the room.

"I take it you're not there yet?" her friend deduces.

"We're getting there."

"There's no 'we' in this, Kate," Lanie warns. "The man already proposed. He knows where he stands."

"I know," Kate promises. "But I'm not sure..."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course."

"Do you want to marry him?"

"Yes," she answers. The words come out without hesitation, surprising her in their steadiness.

Lanie raises an eyebrow. "Sounds to me like a pretty damn good reason to put that ring on your finger, then."

"It's not that simple."

"But it can be," her friend presses.

Kate falls silent, Lanie's words echoing in her head, chasing thoughts around, a swirled jumble that doesn't want to untangle. This entire process is so confusing, so new to her, and she never expected a relationship to have such a steep learning curve. When it came to the Academy, to police work, hell even in school, she never had any trouble keeping up. But here, with feelings and Castle...sometimes she feels like she's drowning.

Sometimes she wonders how he's managed to keep his head so firmly above water.

* * *

She winds up back at the loft that night, her apartment empty save for a pile of cleaning supplies. She's almost done; just a couple more hours and she'll be ready to turn in her key, say goodbye to the place that's been home for the last three years.

She casts her eyes to the top of the bureau, to her jewelry box that now sits on top of it, perched amongst Castle's belongings. Almost subconsciously, she finds herself drawn to it, guided in by the strong pull of the diamond ring that sits nestled among her mother's ring, her father's watch, and the various other jewelry that she rarely wears. Castle is in the shower, the water still running, but she glances over her shoulder anyway just to be sure. Finding the room empty, she lifts the wooden lid, gingerly lifts the velvet box from its place and flips open that lid as well. It snaps into place, loud in the silence of the room, and Kate can't help but stare, mesmerized by the stones shimmering up at her. It's not the first time she's laid eyes on it, but its beauty still captures her attention.

Castle bought this for her. He wants her to wear it on her finger for the rest of her life. She promised herself she wouldn't do this until she was ready, that the ring would stay out of sight, out of mind. But with Lanie's earlier words, she hasn't been able to stop thinking about how it would look on her finger, the glimmering stones, the heavy weight of the metal band.

She slips it from its place in the box, slides it onto her finger with shaking hands. It's a bit too large, a little loose, but she settles it into place at the base of the digit, holds her hand out in front of her to examine. It's...stunning.

And it's hers.

Behind the closed door, the shower shuts off, and she hears the door slide open, knows Castle is reaching around for his towel. She quickly takes the ring off, secures it back into its cushioned slot, and stows the box away once again.

Out of sight, out of mind.

For now, at least.

When Castle emerges, she's seated on the bed, glancing at an email on her phone, but her eyes are glossing over the words on the screen, not actually reading any of them. Instead, it's Lanie's words that occupy her racing mind.

_It's not that simple._

_But it can be._

And in the brief moments she'd felt the weight of the ring on her finger, she thinks she actually almost believed.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	24. Chapter 24

_Author's Note: Thank you so much to Andy for reading a bazillion versions of these next few chapters and for putting up with me as I slowly drove myself crazy over them. These two and their relationship is just so freaking complex._

* * *

**Chapter 24**

"Ready to go?"

Kate nods silently, suppresses the nervous feeling in her stomach, the thoughts lingering in the back of her mind. She's ready for this. She is. And she's excited to be living with him, starting this new chapter of their lives together.

She pauses in the entryway to look back one last time, finds herself hesitant to look away, unable to take another step towards the open door. This is it. She's leaving her key behind, officially moving in with Castle. It overtakes her in a wave and suddenly she's gripping the doorknob so tightly her knuckles are turning white, heart hammering in her chest. She can't do this. She can't, she can't, she...

"Kate."

She whirls her head around, suddenly aware of Castle saying her name, reaching for her to guide her out of the apartment. She lets herself go with him, fighting back every part of her that wants to turn and run. She wants this. She does. But it's new ground for her and she doesn't know what all lies in store for her, for them.

She's never much liked the unknown.

"Hey, you okay?" Castle asks as they come to a stop in front of the elevator.

She turns her head, offers a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, fine."

She sounds about as convinced as he looks.

* * *

He waits until they're back at the loft before digging for answers. "What happened back there?"

"Nothing," she replies automatically.

"Kate."

Right. They're supposed to be open with each other now.

"I was just...sad to be leaving," she offers. His pointed stare lets her know that he knows that's not the whole story. "And I panicked," she amends.

"Why?"

She sweeps her arm out in front of her. "This."

"Moving in?"

"Not having my own place," she answers. "I've never done this before and I'm just...I'm not sure I know how."

"Well it's a little late now," he jokes, but it falls flat.

The small voice in her head wants to protest, wants to scream that it's not too late. That she could…well, she doesn't know exactly. Whatever option might exist, it would only serve as a platform for her to run away from the unknown. And she knows it's wrong, knows it's the cowardly option. But her world feels so off-kilter and it's an automatic response to the situation. It's the coping mechanism she's always known.

It must show all over her face, because Castle is speaking again and he doesn't sound pleased.

"What?"

She shakes her head. "I just..."

His eyes narrow and she trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

"How much longer are you going to expect me to sit back and wait?" he bursts suddenly. It's harsh and it's not exactly what he meant to say, but it's out there and he can't take it back. And maybe some small part of him doesn't even want to. Because he's been patient. He's been _so _patient. Dammit, all he wants is to know that she's as committed to this as he is.

"Castle."

"No really," he presses, "I don't understand what's still holding you back."

"What if we're not ready?" she asks tentatively, thinking back to their weekend in the Hamptons, to how quickly and comfortably they'd fallen back into their old patterns. What if it happens again?

"Like hell we aren't. Five years, Kate. I've known you for five years, and in that time we've survived just about every imaginable scenario, and we're _still here._ We're _still together._ If that's not proof that we're ready, then I don't know what is."

"We don't communicate well," she offers, though it's a feeble excuse at this point. Because for the most part, they _have_ been doing better recently.

"Then why don't we start with you telling me what's really going on?" Castle snaps.

Kate sinks into the sofa, drops her head into her hands. "I don't know," she says on an exhale. "I guess I've just been doing this alone for so long that I don't know how to stop."

"I thought you'd stopped when you resigned and showed up on my doorstep."

"So did I," she admits.

"Is that what you want?" Castle asks, and it hurts that the words even need to leave his mouth, but he has to know. He's sure of what he wants, where he sees his future headed. But he needs to be sure that _she_ is sure as well. Given how close she came to taking a job in another city, he's pretty sure he has reason to be skeptical.

"No," Kate blurts with a shake of her head. "It's not."

"Then what do you want?" he challenges.

"You," she replies, an echo of her words from one year ago. "Us. I want…what we had before all of this happened."

"But not what we have now?"

Kate sighs again. "I want that too. But we almost fell apart, Castle. And now I feel like we fight all the time and I just...what if this keeps happening?"

"Well, I can't promise it won't," Castle begins truthfully. "In some ways, we're two very different people, Kate. We're going to fight, just like we always have. That's never going to change. But we've made it this far, haven't we?"

"What if it gets worse?" she worries.

"It won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I love you, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep us together."

Kate opens her mouth to speak but no words come out.

Instead, Castle presses forward. "I just need to know that you will too."

"I will," she promises. She wants this. More than anything. It's why she's been going to therapy for the last two years - to be ready for this. But it's a two-way street, and she can't keep the lines of communication open she can't trust that he'll be there to help her. To pick up the slack when she slips up. She needs to know that she can count on him for that. That she can trust him to open up to her.

"But what if that's not enough?"

"Are you trying to write us an ending?" he asks, heartbroken by her words, her apparent lack of faith in them. "Do you not want this to work out?"

"I'm just being realistic," Kate shoots back.

"You're not," Castle protests. "You're coming up with every possible scenario for why we shouldn't work, Kate. So pardon me for questioning your commitment."

"It's never crossed your mind?" she challenges, electing to ignore his jab for now. "I mean, look at us. You've been divorced. I'm awful at relationships. We're both bad at communicating."

"And yet, we've made it this far."

"I know, but..."

"You want a guarantee," Castle states. "And I can't give you one."

Kate's heart sinks, her eyes clouding over, as though her worst fear has just been realized.

"There are no guarantees," he continues. "You of all people should know that. I can't promise that we won't fight and that we won't have our rough patches. We will. But I can promise that we'll make it through them."

He can't. He can't promise that. No one can.

"How are you so sure about this?" The words spill out of her and she can't stop them, can't take them back. But she doesn't want to, not really, because what she doesn't understand, above all else, is how he can have such unwavering faith in her. In them.

"Because it's _you,_" he blurts as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Her breath catches in her throat as she stumbles to a halt, eyes wide, heart twisting in her chest at his declaration.

"God, Kate, I _love _you," Castle chokes out in desperation. "I love you so much that I can't even put it into words, because I've never felt this way before. But that's how I _know_. You want a guarantee? I'll give you one. I'm in this. Forever. I can't imagine my life without you, and I will do _absolutely anything_ so that I never have to experience that. And no matter what else happens, that's _never_ going to change."

A tear slips from the corner of her eye, followed by another and another, and she curls her legs, hugging them to her chest as she drops her forehead to rest on her bent knees. She thought therapy had helped. She thought she was past this by now. She thought she was strong enough to face this, strong enough to risk her heart, take this leap of faith.

Apparently she was wrong.

* * *

"You think I'm not scared?" Castle asks eventually, words cutting through the heavy silence.

Kate blinks back the tears that threaten to fall, lifts her eyes to his. "What?"

"You think I'm not just as terrified of this as you are?"

"I..." she hesitates. "It doesn't seem like you are."

He dips his head, takes a moment to collect himself, and when he lifts his chin, seeks out her gaze again, she can see it all in his eyes. And it breaks her heart. "I'm terrified," he admits shakily. He's done a damn good job of suppressing it, of pretending it's not an issue. He's good at that. But she deserves to know that she's not in this alone.

"I didn't know," she murmurs apologetically.

"Do you know how much it scares me," he begins, "to know that there's a very real chance you may not come home at the end of the day?"

"Castle..."

"Do you know how often I pinch myself to prove that this isn't a dream? That I won't wake up some morning to find you gone?"

"Castle..."

"Do you know how much the thought of living without you devastates me?" he presses. "It's not just you, Kate. You act like these fears are unique to you, but they're not."

"I had no idea."

They fall into silence, the air in the room heavy with their admissions, their fears, everything laid out between them. Castle's never felt this vulnerable, never actually voiced these fears to anyone. He thinks that would be hard enough on its own, but here, his insecurities mixed with Kate's, it's turning into an enormous jumble of complication. And he's not even sure where to begin unraveling it.

* * *

It's Castle who once again breaks the silence. "You know, you keep saying you're not ready for this," he quotes.

"I don't feel like I am," she admits. She wants to be. She wants that so badly. She wants to believe in them as fiercely as he does. She's always both admired and envied that ability in him.

"Truth is," he continues, breaking her train of thought, "neither am I. But if we always waited until we were ready, we'd never get anywhere in life."

"But sometimes you need to wait," she interjects. "Sometimes it's not good to push too fast."

"Were you ready the first time you fired a gun in the Academy?" Castle asks pointedly. "Were you ready the first time you had to pull it on someone? How about the first time you actually had to shoot someone?"

"Castle..."

"Were you?" he challenges, not backing down.

"No," Kate admits on a sigh. "But how can you ever be ready for that?"

He raises an eyebrow, waits for her words to sink in. "Exactly."

"No, but this is different," she blurts, scrambling for something, anything, to negate his point. Only there's nothing. Because she knows he's right.

"But it's not," Castle continues, unperturbed. "It's scary and you're unsure and the path isn't clearly laid out. Only this time, you have someone to navigate it with you."

Kate opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Instead, she forces her lips back together, nods silently in acquiescence.

"That's how I'm getting through this," he continues. "I'm afraid. But that's okay. If I didn't have something to lose, it wouldn't be worth it." He reaches out for her, cups her jaw tenderly. "But that's how I know that this is right."

"I never thought of it like that," she murmurs, leaning into his touch.

"I'm sorry for not saying something sooner," Castle apologizes.

"And I'm..." she takes a breath, releases it slowly. "I'm sorry for trying to do this alone."

He slips his hand around to cradle the back of her head, guide her to him until she's half-sprawled over the top of him along the length of the sofa, his other hand spanning her back as hers cling to his shoulders.

"You don't have to be alone anymore, Kate."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	25. Chapter 25

_Author's Note: So the good news is that I'm racing the clock to finish posting chapters before I leave on vacation, meaning updates will be almost every day now. The bad news is that I may not have time to reply to reviews. But please know that I do love hearing your thoughts._

* * *

**Chapter 25**

"Did I do something?"

She sits up in surprise, dislodging Castle's arms from around her in the process and they fall to his lap. "What?"

"To start all of this," Castle clarifies, gesturing at nothing in particular. "Did I do something?"

Kate hesitates, shakes her head unconvincingly.

"What was it?"

"It's not important," she replies, self-conscious about bringing it up. Especially now, after all he's done to prove his love, his commitment. In retrospect, it seems so petty.

"Yes it is," he assures her. "Your feelings are always important, Kate."

She doesn't say anything right away, but when she does speak, it's not at all what he's expecting.

"The night I showed up at your door," she begins, "do you remember how you kissed me?"

Castle nods. As if he could ever forget any part of that night. It's burned into his brain forever. Her hands cradling his jaw, her warm body against his, the taste of rain on her skin, the heavenly sounds that fell from her lips as he explored her body with abandon.

"When I was on suspension," she continues, "it was like that all the time. Like you couldn't get enough of me."

"I can't," he interjects, voice low and honest. "I never can."

"At some point, it stopped feeling like that," Kate admits. She shakes her head sadly, drops her eyes to the floor.

"I never stopped wanting you, Kate," Castle assures her gently. "Just because it wasn't up-against-the-door intensity all the time..." He trails off as he sees her still shaking her head. Apparently he's missing something here.

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

She lifts her chin again, eyes steely. "You fought for me for four years, Castle. And then you had me and it was like you stopped fighting."

"I didn't want to push," he explains, as though it's obvious.

She can't help the laugh that escapes her. "Since when? God, you pushed and prodded for years. And I'm _glad _you did," she adds when he opens his mouth, poised to protest. "But why stop now?"

"Because I had you," he admits on a sigh. "And I didn't want to lose you by pushing too hard."

"You wouldn't have."

Castle raises an eyebrow, disbelieving. "Do you know how many times – before now – that I've wanted to ask you to move in?" A shake of her head. "It's been months, Kate. I can't even remember when it first crossed my mind, but if I'd asked you six months ago, what would have happened?"

"I..." she trails off. Okay, yeah, she would have bolted.

"I figured I'd just do things at your pace. It worked before, right?"

"But you still pushed, Castle. Even if I was holding us back, you were still fighting against that."

He sighs, remembering the determination with which he butted up against her walls, time and time again. He'd fought because she was worth it. But it hadn't occurred to him that he'd have to keep fighting once those walls came down. He thinks back to his mother's words, her implications that he was holding back. And yes, maybe she'd been right. Maybe he was holding back. But he'd thought the ring was enough to counteract that.

Then again, it never has been that simple.

"Castle," Kate prompts gently, jarring him from his thoughts.

"I, uh, yeah," he stammers, forcing the words to form into sentences. "I guess you're right. I stopped. But it wasn't because I stopped wanting you. God, Kate, that could never happen."

"Then why?"

"Because you've always liked to lead," he answers truthfully. "I so I followed."

Truth be told, he was perfectly content to continue on that way. And maybe that was where he'd gone wrong.

Kate dips her head again, hair falling to conceal her face, but Castle is having none of it. He extends an arm, gently tilts her chin back up, and when she meets his eyes again, he tenderly tucks the errant strands back into place before dropping his hand.

She catches it on its descent, envelops it in her own, her fingers warm and tender against his skin. "Will you, um," she begins shyly, blinking up at him through her lashes. "Will you start pushing again?"

"You want me to get down on one knee right now and ask again, because..."

"Not like that," she interrupts, though her eyes are light and there's a barely concealed smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "Just...maybe I'm just being insecure, but..."

"No."

Castle halts her words before she can continue that train of thought, eyes deep and serious, because he understands now what she's asking of him. He couldn't comprehend at first how she could ever possibly feel unwanted, feel as though he's not absolutely, madly in love with her. But he sees it now, sees that perhaps he misread some of the signs, missed the cues she was sending him; the ones that projected her need for direction, for reassurance. He remembers also how he clung to the little things, the smiles, the touches, the promise in her words or even in her eyes. It was how he knew they were headed the right direction. How he knew she was falling for him.

"You're not," he continues, with a shake of his head. It's not insecure. Or maybe it is. But either way, he can't fault her for it when he's felt same way. "I understand. It's nice to feel wanted."

She nods, so relieved he understands her. "Yeah."

He extracts his hand from her grasp, lifts both arms to cradle her jaw, and captures her lips in a deep kiss.

"Kate," he murmurs against her, breath warm against her lips.

"Hmmm?"

"I'm sorry for holding back."

She kisses him softly in acceptance.

"And I always want you."

Her eyes drop pointedly to his crotch and she's about to make a teasing comment, but before she can, his lips are on hers again, and it's intense and passionate and everything that she loves about this man wrapped into the gesture.

Kate feels herself giving into him instantly, limbs weak, her body putty in his hands as she clings to his arms, holding him close. She loves that Castle is easy-going, a calm presence when she needs it, loosening her up when she becomes too uptight. She needs that balance in her life. But she loves when he takes charge, too. Loves when he goes after what he wants, fights for it, doesn't stop.

Loves when he takes control.

Maybe she hasn't been very good about conveying that, instead allowing her natural strong personality to take over. And she certainly hasn't said anything to that effect until just now. But words never have been her strong point.

So she shows him instead.

When his hands slide beneath the hem of her shirt, she sits back and lets him strip the garment from her skin. When he lays her back onto the sofa, she goes willingly, sinking into the cushions. When he strips her bare, worships her body, she relaxes into it, doesn't push, doesn't urge him for more and faster and _I need you right now._ She lets him take his time, lips and tongue bringing her over the edge and back down again.

And when he divests himself of the rest of his clothing, settles down on top of her, she doesn't flip them, doesn't wrap her legs around him to guide his movements as she so often does. She lets him set the pace, content to allow him to be in control.

It's slow and gentle and the love in his eyes is almost more than she can take, but it's also completely overwhelming and amazing when her walls begin to flutter around him, a slow build culminating in an exquisite release.

He breathes his love into her skin as he collapses on top of her, and smiles dazedly, the edges of his mind shrouded in bliss.

Castle can't remember the last time Kate didn't try to take the lead, at least in some form. Probably not since the last time he cuffed her to the bed, and even then she was lifting her hips, locking her ankles behind his thighs and driving them forward. He hadn't even realized until today that they'd fallen into this pattern, wasn't aware of exactly when he started holding back, content to allow her to take the reins.

He's not complaining. Not really. He loves that she's so take-charge, strong and confident and driven in all aspects of life. It's one of the things he loves about her. But knowing that she trusts him so thoroughly to completely relinquish control – he didn't realize how badly he needed that reassurance until tonight.

He grins into her hair at the thought, absolutely overwhelmed with it all. She wants him to take the lead. Wants him to do so more often, in fact. And oh, how he's missed that spicy back-and-forth that defined so much of their relationship since the day they met – him pushing and prodding, her pretending to be annoyed with it while secretly, slowly, finding herself giving in to it. They thrived on that.

They need that back in their lives.

Almost as though she's reading his mind, Kate sighs happily, lips open at his neck. "I've missed this."

He fumbles for a blanket, tosses it over the top of them as sleep slowly pulls him under. "I have too."

* * *

She wakes to the quiet clicking of keys beneath nimble fingertips, blinks open her eyes to find the room dim, illuminated only by the light drifting in from the kitchen and the luminescence of his computer screen. Castle is deep in concentration, brow furrowed, mouth moving as he silently dictates the story he's trying to tell, as though he's testing out the words on his lips as they span out across the page.

She's not sure how long she's been asleep, nor how long he's been awake, but she must have really needed the nap, because he managed to untangle their bodies, settle in at the end of the sofa, and toss her legs over his lap, computer resting on her shins, all without waking her.

Only once she points her toes, extends her arms to stretch, does he become aware of her wakefulness, and he peels his eyes from the screen to find a sleepy, sated Kate gazing up at him.

"Hey," she murmurs, voice rough with sleep still. Her hair is a wild mass of curls, make-up a bit smudged around her eyes from having her face pressed into a pillow. She looks deliciously rumpled and he feels it curl low in his abdomen.

Castle saves the document, sets his laptop aside, reaches for her. "Hey."

She presses up onto her elbows and the blanket slips down, leaving her bare from the waist up. She automatically jerks it back over her, blocking out the cool air of the room, but not before Castle's eyes lock on her chest, lingering even after she's no longer exposed. His eyes are dark, but it's more than lust and arousal; it's a deep contentment that she sees there, a sense of peace.

"You okay?" Kate calls softly, and he sheepishly lifts his eyes to hers but she doesn't seem to mind in the least that he was staring.

"Mmmm, yeah."

She curls her legs, sits up the rest of the way, and reaches out to lay her free hand on his thigh.

"Castle."

"I'm good," he assures her, covering her hand with his own, fingers dipping into the gaps between hers. "Promise."

"Okay," she yields with a smile.

"I just...I like this." Kate lifts wide, dark eyes to his, eager and curious, drawn in by his words. "Having you here. Permanently. I've wanted this for so long."

She blinks hard, finds herself fighting back tears, because _this_ – the way he's opening up, speaking his mind, standing up for what he wants – this is the part of him she's missed, the part of him that hasn't made many appearances in recent months.

And she knows now – knows that moving in was the right decision. Maybe she's afraid to face the unknown, and maybe she's still a bit unsure as to what lies ahead, and maybe they're still going to have to battle constantly to keep the lines of communication open. But Castle looks the happiest she's seen him in months, and it's because of her. Because she finally stopped fighting it.

Kate leans in, captures his lips in a gentle kiss, feels him smile into it. And in that moment, she makes a promise to herself – to just let it happen. To do everything in her power to keep alive the light that shimmers in his eyes.

And to show him and tell him, every single day, how much she loves him.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	26. Chapter 26

_Author's Note: I struggled a lot with this chapter and I'm still not entirely sure I'm happy with it. But, well, here it is._

* * *

**Chapter 26**

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Rick," the man offers, extending a hand. Castle grips it nervously, hoping he doesn't come across as jittery as he feels.

"Likewise," he grits, though it's somewhat of a lie. He's interested to meet the man that's largely responsible for he and Kate being together now. He'll always be infinitely grateful for that. But he's never much liked talking about feelings, and as such, has always strictly avoided speaking with therapists.

But apparently the doctor thought it would be good for them, and so did Kate, so he'd promised her he'd come along just this once. And here he was.

"Please," Burke gestured to the chairs behind them and Kate curled into the one nearest the window, leaving Castle to settle in the one next to her as Burke too relaxed into his customary seat.

"I have to say, it's nice to finally put a face to the name," the doctor begins.

Castle cringes. "I don't know, maybe it was better when you didn't know who I was." Burke doesn't speak, prompting for an expansion in that silent way of his, and Castle finds himself succumbing before he can fight it. "I mean, I'm sure I don't come across too great in most of what you've heard."

"It's not my job to judge," Burke promises. But though Castle believes that he tries his best to remain impartial, all human interaction involves some sort of judgment. And, consciously or not, this man possesses some sort of preformed opinions about him.

"Of course," Castle offers in answer.

"So...tell me about yourself," he begins, an open-ended suggestion.

"Well, I'm a writer."

"Mystery novels, if I recall correctly."

Castle nods.

"What else should I know about you?"

"I have a daughter," he offers awkwardly, not really sure how to do this.

Burke nods. "How old?"

"Nineteen. Just finished her first year at Columbia. She's off doing a summer program in Costa Rica."

"Impressive."

A proud smile splits his face, lights up his eyes. Burke notes this reaction, the depth of his relationship with his daughter. It was evident from Kate's words that Castle is fiercely loyal and deeply loving, and he can see now for himself that his suspicions were correct.

"Any other family?"

"My mother lives with me. Us," he amends, gesturing to Kate. "She's an actress."

"Ah. Anything else?"

Castle shrugs, shakes his head. He's not about to bring up his father, not when he's barely met the man.

"From New York?" Burke asks, and at Castle's nod, he continues. "What were your childhood years like?"

"Fine, I guess," he replies evasively. "I mean, I was just like any other kid."

"Where did you go to school?"

"All over the place." Castle sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, the memories obviously painful. He covers up the answer with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I wasn't the most well behaved child."

Burke nods thoughtfully, remains silent, waiting for him to continue, to offer forth the rest of the story.

It takes a minute or two before Castle relents. "I went to so many different schools," he begins, a flashback to his childhood, and Kate tilts her head, clinging to every word in interest, wanting to know more, to hear the stories of his past that he so fiercely protects. Burke too notes her level of intrigue, the silent curiosity in her eyes. "I never had many friends."

"And why was that?" the therapist asks, not accusing, merely curious to hear the author's assessment.

"I moved around a lot, you know? People promise to keep in touch, to invite you over, but most of the time, it never happens."

The doctor hums his interest.

"I guess I just got used to it eventually." He laughs harshly, shakes his head, the recollections not pleasant.

"And now?"

"I wrote my first bestseller in college," Castle answers. "Safe to say that I spend plenty of time socializing."

"So you have a lot of close friends now?" the doctor nudges. From what he's heard of the man and his relationship with Kate, he has a nagging feeling there's a reason behind their constant communication breakdowns, one that can't be attributed solely to Kate. One that's probably very deep-seated and unacknowledged.

"Of course," he replies with a shrug, ignoring the voice in his head reminding him that aside from his family and Ryan and Esposito, he has very few people he'd consider close enough friends to truly confide in.

Once again, Burke waits him out.

"Okay, just a couple."

"Just a couple?"

He brushes it off. "Hazard of the job. Can't be too careful about who you open up to."

The therapist nods thoughtfully, a larger picture beginning to form in his mind.

"Does that bother you?"

"I'm used to it." It's not an answer.

"But you're happy?"

"Of course."

"You feel secure amongst your family and friends?"

"Yes," he answers waveringly, wary of what the man is getting at.

"You confide in them?"

"Sometimes."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?" he hedges. This is precisely why he dislikes therapy, despises the questions they ask, the way they manage to wedge their way inside. He doesn't know what Kate was expecting when she suggested this, but he's pretty sure digging up his current and former social life isn't going to do anyone any good, least of all himself.

"Why only some of the time?"

Castle shrugs.

"Think about it," Burke prompts, leaning back into his chair and folding his hands in his lap.

"I've always just kept things to myself."

"Why?" he probes.

"It's easier that way."

"Less painful, you mean?"

Another shrug, a half nod. Castle lifts his head to find himself met by Burke's steely gaze.

"People come and go."

The therapist nods in understanding, poised to say more, but before he can, Kate speaks. "I don't, Castle."

"What?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," he assures her, turning his head in her direction, though his eyes don't meet hers.

"You don't have to hide from me," she continues, wants him to understand this, because she thinks this might be the first time he's ever spoken of this. The first time he's ever had to face this particular part of himself. He's the one who showed her that it's okay to open up, that it's okay to feel and to hurt and to risk her heart. He's the one who's been with her every step of the way as she's fought to get to where she is today. And after all that he's done for her, the least she can do is offer him the same in return.

"I know."

"Do you?" Kate challenges. She doesn't want to bring about more pain, to further open these wounds of the past. But she does want to understand why they're still guiding him so strongly after all this time. "Because most of the things you just said...I've never heard them before, Castle. I had no idea."

"I don't usually talk about it."

"I know," she states. It's evident from his reluctance that he prefers to keep most of his earlier memories locked away in a box. "But why?"

"What does it matter?" he asks with a shrug. "It was a long time ago."

"Because I want to know these things about you," Kate explains. "You've spent years prying these kinds of stories out of me. I'm not...blaming you," she adds with a raised hand when he opens his mouth to protest. "It was good for me. I'm just wondering why it's all such a secret. Do you not trust me?"

"Kate..." he protests.

"Then what?"

"I..." Castle sighs heavily, runs a hand over his face. He hates that this is even a thought that's crossed his mind, but it's there and it won't go away. It hasn't since the words first left his mother's mouth. "I guess maybe some part of me still thinks that this isn't going to last either."

Her heart clenches in her chest and it feels as though her whole world is crumbling around her when she hears his words.

"But yesterday you said..." she begins. "You were so sure."

"I am."

"But you just said..."

He sighs heavily, painfully. He wasn't ever planning on admitting this, didn't even like hearing the words aloud when his mother had spoken them. Didn't feel like further complicating things with his own insecurities. No. He was perfectly happy to continue ignoring their existence, trudging forward until they simply...disappeared.

"Castle," she chokes.

"Kate..."

"Do you not want this to work?" she asks, an echo of his question to her less than twenty four hours earlier.

"Of course I do."

"Then why..."

"Kate," he interrupts again, a hand settling on her arm, steadying her. "I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. But I've done this twice before and let's face it...I'm obviously not good at relationships. Or marriage," he adds with a humorless laugh.

"If marriage isn't what you want then why did you ask me?"

"I do want it," he promises. "God, so much. I just don't want to screw it up this time."

She allows him a moment to wallow before squeezing his hand, speaking again, because she needs him to know that she understands. She's heard about his marriages now, and no, she's not thrilled that they happened, that he has that in his past. But she's not going to hold it against him. And she's certainly not going to help history repeat itself. "Castle."

"Hmmm?"

"It's in the past," she reminds him gently. "All of that. It's over. And it's not going to happen again."

He lifts surprised eyes to hers, because for so long now it's been he who was certain and she who was running scared.

But she understands now. She understands him so much better than she ever has before; his past, the scars of his childhood. Sometimes she forgets that his heart is just as guarded as hers, that he has his own walls, his own reasons to protect himself. But yesterday's words have sunk in now and she's had time to realize all the ways he's fighting for them, the fierceness with which he's working to hold them together.

And now, he's finally beginning to truly open up to her. It's not the first time. He's opened his heart, his home. But now he's opening his past as well, allowing her to see the scars, the pain, the old wounds that heal but never truly fade, that have shaped him into the man she knows and loves. He's trusting her with all of it, and that's something he's never done before.

She wasn't sure, when he proposed, if it was for the right reasons. She wasn't sure his desire for a life together was stemming from the right place. She wasn't sure he was truly prepared for it. Hell, she knows he wasn't. _They_ weren't. Not when they couldn't even talk things over, voice their feelings, lend words to their thoughts.

But they're communicating now. They're opening each other up. It's a slow process and it hasn't been without its issues, but they're doing it. They're gradually working their way through all of the conversations they need to have, learning about each other along the way. Learning to lean on each other, to trust each other. And maybe they'll need a few more sessions, maybe they need some outside help to get to where they need to be, but after the last two days, she has faith that they'll get there.

It helps, too, knowing that she's not alone in her fears. That he harbors the same insecurities, the same paralyzing fears of losing each other, of their abysmal histories eventually colluding to tear them apart. On her own, it's all too much. But with each other to lean on, it's becoming less overwhelming.

"Promise?" Castle asks, the insecure part of him needing her reassurance in this, and she draws her attention back to him, to this wonderful, amazing man who loves her more than anything.

She smiles, lifts his hand from her arm and twines it with her own. "I promise, Castle."

And for the first time since the plane ticket made its untimely appearance, he truly believes her.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	27. Chapter 27

_Author's Note: All my thanks to Andy for sending me a list of fantastic suggestions that will be incorporated into the next few chapters. You are a brainstorming genius, my dear!_

* * *

**Chapter 27 **

"Well..."

Two heads whirl around, eyes wide in shock as they become aware of the doctor's presence, so wrapped up in their conversation that they'd all but forgotten about their location.

"I, ummm..."

"We..."

"Were having a much needed discussion, by the looks of it," Burke finishes for them.

Castle fixes his eyes on the ground while Kate sheepishly lifts hers to those of the man sitting across from them, shrugs lightly. But her mind is whirling, still trying to take it all in, the things she's just learned about Castle, the insecurities it never occurred to her that he possessed. She's never considered that his lack of willingness to open up stems not just from his not-unfounded fear of her rejection, but also from his childhood, never realized that perhaps parts of it were as deep-seated as hers.

In some ways they're more alike than she's ever realized.

"Well," Burke claps his hands together, pulls Kate back to present. "I think this is a good place to wrap things up for today."

Castle starts to stand just as Kate opens her mouth to speak, but before either can follow through, Burke continues.

"I know that communication has, at times, been a struggle," he says. "But from what I've just seen, you two appear to be working things out."

They both shrug, exchanging a glance before turning back to the therapist.

"So here's my challenge to you: Rick, every day for the next week, I want you to tell Kate something about yourself. Something that you've never told anyone." Castle opens his mouth to protest but Burke silences him with a look. "It can be big, small, doesn't matter to me so long as it helps you to become more comfortable opening up to her."

He nods resignedly, not looking forward to this at all. Not that he's exactly intending to follow through.

"And Kate, continue to work on honesty and openness."

She nods compliantly.

"Okay, well," Burke rises and Castle jerks from his thoughts, stands as well. "It was a pleasure, Rick. Perhaps I'll be seeing you again?"

He bites back the 'absolutely not' that wants to escape, instead smiling politely and once again shaking the man's hand. "Maybe so."

"And Kate, I'll see you next week."

She thanks him graciously as she links her arm through Castle's, leading them out of the office, down the elevator and out onto the street. He's tense next to her, movements stiff, jaw set, eyes fixed firmly ahead as they walk, and though it looks like he wants to speak, no words cross the threshold of his lips.

She finally breaks the silence. "Castle."

"Huh?" he replies, eyes not shifting in the slightest.

"Hey." She tugs him out of the hustle and bustle of the city sidewalks, stepping under an awning and out of the way of passersby. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Castle."

He sighs, runs a hand over his face. "I just...I don't like this."

"What?"

"Therapists."

She laughs lightly. "I don't think anyone does."

Castle doesn't reply.

"Hey." Kate nudges him with her elbow, smiles soothingly. "He wants to help us, okay? That's all. It's not the worst thing in the world."

"I know," he breathes on an exhale, arm dropping to his side. "I know. I just don't like it."

"Then we don't have to go again," she concedes, and while it's not what she would prefer, she's not going to force it. "I just thought it might help."

He shrugs, turns and steps back into the fast-paced line of pedestrians, and Kate is left with no option but to follow, dashing to catch up. She snags his hand as she steps up beside him, linking them together, but doesn't speak.

She knows from experience how draining it can be, having to unearth things that have been so far suppressed for so long. She's better at containing it now, better at keeping herself together, but she spent most of the first year leaving Burke's office in shambles, completely shattered and out of sorts.

All she wanted on those evenings was a glass of wine, a hot bath, and time to put herself back together. Alone.

Maybe that's what he needs as well.

* * *

Kate forces herself not to bring it up for the rest of the day. Not until she's climbing into bed next to him and he catches her glancing his way with genuine interest. It's the same look he saw in her eyes when they were talking with Burke, and...

Oh.

"You're actually expecting me to do this?" he asks disbelievingly.

"Castle."

"What?"

"Why are you so against it?"

"I just don't see why we need to force things out. If they need to come up, they will."

She bites back the voice that points out that it really doesn't work that way with them. That things have a tendency to _not_ ever come up, even when they desperately need to.

"Because I _want _to know you, Castle," she says instead, and it's not untrue.

"You do."

"Only the parts that you share with me."

He opens his mouth to speak, closes it again, but he doesn't have to say anything. The hesitance is written in his posture, in the lines of his face, the hard set of his jaw.

It's Kate's words that break through the silence. "Do you know why I didn't call you when I got out of the hospital?"

"I thought you said you weren't ready to deal with what I'd said," he answers after a moment, giving his mind a chance to catch up to this new conversation.

"I wasn't," she reiterates. "And that was part of it. But the other reason was because I was afraid that if you saw me like that, you wouldn't feel that way anymore."

"That could never happen."

She raises an eyebrow, waits, and she can see as it sinks it. "I love you, Castle. Some story from your past isn't going to change that."

"So if I turn out to be some psychopathic murderer..."

She whacks his arm but the twinkle in her eyes and the barely suppressed smile twitching up the corners of her mouth give her away.

"Okay, fine," he resigns after a minute. "What do you want to know?"

She fixes him with a challenging stare, lips pressed tightly together.

"You want me to pick?"

"I want it to be something you _want_ to tell me, Castle."

He settles into the bed, fingers fiddling with the edge of the comforter, and it's a long moment but Kate waits him out silently, expectantly. His eyes travel around the room, and at first she thinks it's just a vacant stare, but then they settle on a picture of his daughter, and he begins to speak.

"When Meredith first told me she was pregnant, the first thought that crossed my mind was to leave."

Kate looks up in surprise, taken aback by his admission. Seeing him with Alexis, watching how devoted he is as a father, was the first thing that made her realize that there was more to him than meets the eye. That there were parts of him that weren't a giant, immature pain in the ass.

She can't imagine him not being a father.

"I was twenty two, just out of college," he continues, but his eyes are distant and the words come out as though on autopilot. "I wasn't ready to be a father. Hell, I don't think I even knew what a diaper actually looked like."

She laughs softly, can't help herself, because she can so picture Castle with a diaper in his hand, twisting it around trying to figure out how to put it on a baby Alexis.

"I'd always wanted kids – someday. But I wasn't..." he shakes his head. "I was high off my first book still and not that far out of a breakup." He doesn't say her name but Kate can deduce from the pain that flashes through his eyes that it was Kyra. "I had all this money and freedom and no self-control. I'm not proud of it," he admits with a shake of his head, a long, slow exhale passing through his lips. "And I don't even want to imagine what my life would've been like if I hadn't changed my mind."

"Castle," she whispers, reaching out to cradle his hand within the circle of her own, thumb smoothing across the back of his palm. "You're a good father."

Images of kids have been dancing in her mind ever since he first brought it up three weeks ago, dark hair and piercing blue eyes, an adorable baby girl, a precocious little boy. Kids have never been even remotely realistic for her, and in some ways they still aren't. But now she can't squelch the thought. It floats through her dreams, dances around the back corners of her mind, appearing with increasing frequency. And hearing this story now...she suddenly can't stop picturing Castle as a father.

Because their kids - if, _when_, they have them – will be so damn lucky to have him for a dad.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	28. Chapter 28

_Author's Note: I'll try to catch up on replying to reviews this weekend. Until then, thank you to everyone who's reviewed the last 2 chapters._

* * *

**Chapter 28**

"So I was thinking." Kate lifts her head from the Sunday morning crossword, mug of coffee cradled in one hand, one leg crossed over the other as she sits perched at the bar, and a t-shirt-and-boxer-clad Castle stops in his tracks, can't help but stare. Because she looks so at home sitting in the kitchen in a robe, feet bare, hair still mussed from sleep. And she lives here now and she made coffee and she's doing the crossword puzzle and she's just...

It overtakes him in a disorienting wave. God, he loves her.

"Castle."

He jerks as if woken from a trance, forces one foot to settle in front of the other. "Right, sorry."

"Everything okay?"

He reaches her, steps right up into her personal space and leans in to drop a kiss on her temple. "You made coffee."

"Mmhmm."

"You're doing the crossword."

"Yep."

He glances over her shoulder, eyes skimming the puzzle. "You know what 'sesquipedalian' means?"

She shrugs, takes a sip of the steaming beverage, and she barely has a chance to swallow before Castle is leaning down, pressing a scorching kiss to her lips. She tastes like coffee and home and forever and she's sexy as hell but he's pretty sure nothing will ever turn him on as much as her brain.

"That is so hot."

She rolls her eyes, is about to comment, but Castle is prying the mug from her hands, tugging the pencil from her grip, and suddenly she finds herself on her feet, backed against the bar with his hand on the sash of her robe. She wraps her ankle around his calf, top of her foot trailing up and down over the bare skin. Castle shudders, hips jerking into hers. Kate drops her head forward with a moan, forehead on his shoulder, and he's just slipping his hands inside the fabric, palm splaying across her stomach, when they're interrupted by a startled "oh" from the direction of the stairwell.

Kate's hands dart to her robe, shoving Castle's wandering fingers out of the way as she hastily secures the tie, and Castle turns his head to find his mother on the stairs, looking very much amused at their compromising positions.

Martha gestures to the bar, lifting the awkwardness as only she could manage. "I know you enjoy having Katherine here but really Richard, I eat at that counter."

Kate shoves him firmly until he steps back, allowing her room to move away from the counter, eyes still averted as her cheeks flame with embarrassment. Castle drops his hands, though he doesn't look all that humiliated at being caught by his mother.

Martha doesn't appear overly fazed either, simply continues down the stairs and across to the kitchen, sashaying right up to Kate and taking her completely by surprise when she cups her cheeks with both hands. "But it is _so_ lovely to have you here now, darling."

"Thank you Martha," Kate manages, thrown off balance by the combination of the woman's constant enthusiasm and deeply caring nature. It strikes her suddenly that she's moved in with more than just Castle. She's moved in with his entire family. And she finds herself swallowing hard around the lump forming in her throat because it's been _so long_ since she's lived in a house with a family.

Kate's still reeling as Castle's mother drops her arms, begins to move about the kitchen, taking down a travel mug from one of the cabinets, filling it with coffee before making her way to the front door. She stops with one hand on the doorknob, turns back to the couple in the kitchen.

"By the way, Richard, pants might be a good addition to your wardrobe."

He drops his hands to cover the front of himself, an automatic reaction despite the presence of his boxers, and Kate smirks because maybe he's fully covered, but she could feel exactly how excited he was when he'd been pressed up against her, and the thin layer of silk is doing absolutely nothing to hide it.

Martha makes her exit then, a teasing glimmer in her eyes as she closes the door on her uncomfortable son and his embarrassed girlfriend.

And then there were two.

* * *

"So, ummm..."

"Yeah, that was..."

"...awkward?"

"You know..." Castle says suddenly, eyebrow raised mischievously in an attempt to brush it off. "Now that we _know_ it's just the two of us..."

Kate shoves him back, though the glare she attempts to pair it with renders her actions completely ineffectual.

"What?" he asks innocently, but she's already turning back to her coffee. He takes her cue, fills his own mug with the dark liquid, and he's stirring in a couple spoonfuls of sugar when she speaks.

"What were you going to say?"

"You mean now that mother's gone?" he asks enthusiastically.

"When you first walked out," she clarifies, ignoring his remark and the sexy grin that's slowly spreading across his face. He looks like he's hungry, and not for breakfast.

"Oh, uh," Castle takes a sip of coffee, works backwards through his thoughts. "I was going to suggest – what if we took some of your stuff to the Hamptons? The things that we haven't found a place for here, I mean." He gestures to the two boxes that still sit in the living room. They've managed to sort out most of her things over the course of the week but a few items have yet to find a home at the loft. "Thank you wouldn't have to sell it. If you want, I mean."

"I uh, well," she begins, caught off guard by his suggestion, but already images are floating through her mind of the beautiful Hamptons house, of how her belongings would look there alongside his. They still haven't rehashed the matter of co-ownership, and, really, Kate doesn't see the point in bringing it up again anytime soon. No need to complicate matters further.

But at this point, this seems like a solid compromise. And it makes her feel a bit more stable, too, knowing she doesn't have to sell everything off. She can still hang onto them, to these pieces of her life. And just as his life has become hers, hers can become his as well.

Theirs.

Kate rounds the counter, latches onto the waistband of his boxers and tugs him forward until she can lift up on her toes, press her lips to his. "I like that idea."

* * *

His mother's entrance may have completely killed the mood a few minutes earlier, but the moment her fingers slip beneath the fabric of his boxers, nails scratching lightly against his skin, the passion is back, descending with a vengeance. He backs her into the refrigerator and kisses her fiercely, untying her robe once again and Kate drops her arms, allows the fabric to slip to the floor. It pools around their feet, joined momentarily by his t-shirt and then his boxers, and then he's pressing hot and hard into her stomach and her leg is wrapped around his hip and his fingers slip between them, and the sounds coming out of her mouth are absolutely sinful.

When he slides into her, she bites down on his shoulder. His hips jerk into hers unexpectedly, driving him deeper. Her thighs clench around him and he groans, the sound ripped from deep in his throat, and it vibrates through him as he presses against her.

She stainless steel is cold against her back and Castle is hot at her front and it's sensory overload as he slides in and out, thrusts becoming increasingly more erratic.

His tongue finds her earlobe, tracing the outline, the softness in stark contrast to the sharp motions of his hips, and Kate's hand fists in his hair, holding him against her.

Castle can feel the pressure building, releasing coiling in his abdomen, and his hand snakes between them once again, finding the place they're joined. His thumb presses against her and she bucks into him wildly, walls beginning to flutter. And then all it takes is a circle of his fingertip, a burst of pressure, and she's shattering around him, coaxing his release from him as well.

His grip on her slackens and she drops her legs, feet seeking purchase on the cool floor, but her leg muscles don't want to cooperate. Castle lowers them to the floor, joints buckling under them as they collapse in a tangled, sated heap.

Kate drops her head back against the cool metal, eyes closed, breaths coming in rapid spurts. Her limbs feel heavy, her mind blurred, and seriously, how can it still be like this every time?

She remembers their first night still in such vivid detail, not just the way he pressed her up against his bedroom door, not even the fact that they didn't make it to the bed the first time. Hell, they barely made it there for round two.

But the image that's forever burned into her brain is from round three, the one where they finally managed to take their time, passion building as a slow burn until the flames finally engulfed them. She'll never forget the look in his eyes then, dark and liquid and fixed on the point at which they were joined. She'd found herself drawn to it too, to the way they fit together, moved together, so intimate and overwhelming and _finally._

Even after all this time, she still feels that same sense of wonder.

* * *

After their encounter in the kitchen, Castle spends the rest of the day writing, a frantic rush to finish up the final few chapters of _Deadly Heat. _With everything that's happened over the last few weeks, the words just haven't been coming as fast as he'd like. But the deadline is looming and his inspiration has returned in spades now, and before he knows what's happening, he has most of a chapter added to the document. An, ahem, rather racy chapter. That has absolutely nothing to do with the plot and doesn't even remotely fit in with where the storyline is.

He scrolls up to read over the words, finds himself having to take a deep breath, force himself to calm down a bit and take a step back and tone things down a notch. Parts of it are definitely far too intimate to be published, not to mention the fact that Kate will probably kill him when she reads it.

Some things aren't meant to be made public.

He's not even aware of her presence until a set of fingertips begin to dance over his shoulders, across his collarbones, slipping down beneath the v-neck of his shirt to smooth across the skin of his chest.

She breathes his name into his ear and he pushes the laptop away, leans into her touch, allows himself to be swept under. But just as his control is vanishing, hers is being regained, and she pulls back, chin resting innocently on his shoulder. He reaches for her but his arm is at an awkward angle and he only manages to curl his fingers around empty space.

"Castle," she says again, voice low and sultry, but there's almost a hint of teasing that laces her tone as well.

"Hmmm?" he hums, still enraptured, body and mind held hostage by her.

Her eyes are dancing over the page, a grin splitting her face she skims the words, the scene he's drafted up forming sharply in her mind. Steam curling through the air. A hot shower. Herself and Castle (because, honestly, she's never actually pictured Nikki and Rook as she read page 105). She can already feel the ghost of his hands on her skin, sense the heat of his touch. They're just words but somehow it's so real.

"You can't publish that."

"I know," he gets out, the words rough and stuck in his throat as her lips trail across his neck.

* * *

They act it out instead.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	29. Chapter 29

_Author's Note: Well, we're starting to wind down here. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me so far. I know it's been a bumpy and frustrating road, but I hope you've enjoyed traveling it as much as I have writing it._

* * *

**Chapter 29**

Kate is browsing his bookshelf later that evening when the incoming call sound rings from his laptop, a picture of Alexis appearing on the screen beneath her name. Naturally, his daughter would call the moment Castle went to use the bathroom.

Kate hesitates, briefly debates letting it ring out. She hasn't spoken with Alexis since before she left for Costa Rica, and certainly not since everything else happened, and she's not sure exactly what Castle's told his daughter, but Kate's certain she knows enough to be less than pleased.

But Alexis is in the Costa Rican jungle and it's entirely possible that she's calling because something's happened, so the mature, responsible side of Kate takes over. She sinks into the desk chair and clicks the 'answer' button.

The redhead is noticeably surprised when it's not her father's face that appears on the screen. "Detective Beckett?"

"Hi Alexis. Your dad, uh, will be back in a minute."

"Oh." The girl looks down nervously, and her arms are flexing and relaxing in rhythm, as though she's twisting her hands in her lap.

"How's Costa Rica?" Kate asks, determined to avoid falling into awkwardness.

"It's, uh, good," Alexis offers, eyes lifting to the screen but not looking into the camera. "How's...living with Dad?"

Somehow, she doesn't think _well, we had sex in the kitchen this morning, _is a suitable answer, though it's the first thing to cross her mind. She and Castle have been, well, enthusiastic this week.

"I'm enjoying it," Kate answers instead. Alexis nods stiffly and Kate suddenly feels the urge to expand, to dispel the tension. "I, uh, I know this was all kind of sudden," she begins. "And I'm not sure what your dad has told you..."

"I know what happened," Alexis interjects.

"Well then you know that I've made a mess of things," Kate says honestly. "But you should also know that I'm trying my hardest to fix them."

"I just want Dad to be happy," the teen states bluntly. She's not interested in apologies or explanations right now. No amount of excuses will undo what she's watched her father go through, not just in recent weeks but in the last five years.

"I am." Kate whirls around to find Castle leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and a sheepish smile on his face. He crosses to the desk, leans over to wrap his arms around Kate from behind and plant a kiss on her cheek before turning to his daughter. "Hey, pumpkin."

Alexis smiles faintly.

"How are things in the jungle?"

"They're good," she replies, an echo of her earlier answer. "We have the day off today so I'm at an internet café in town."

Castle nods in interest, probes for more, and as the conversation progresses, Kate finds Alexis opening up more and more. Her posture loosens, her enthusiasm grows, and soon all three of them are chatting and laughing, Alexis sharing stories of her adventures while Castle and Kate listen attentively.

Ever the keen observer, Alexis keeps an eye trained on her father and Kate as well, taking note of the ease with which they interact, the smiles they share throughout the conversation. She hasn't seen them quite so in sync – or in love – in months, but by the time they disconnect, she finds that she's slightly more at ease with her father's new living arrangements.

Despite her disapproval of some of Kate's actions, Alexis has never disliked the woman. She's strong and determined and intelligent and someone the girl has always looked up to when considering educational decisions and potential career paths. And she's seen the changes in her father as well, can't deny that in many ways, Kate is good for him.

When she's not breaking his heart.

But they seem happy and Kate says she's trying to fix things, and if that's the case then Alexis can accept that.

She just doesn't want to see her father get hurt again.

* * *

Even Kate notices the changes in Alexis's demeanor throughout the course of their chat, and by the end of the call, she feels a huge sense of relief settle over her. She's been building all of this up in her mind, every hurdle becoming an un-scalable wall, a barrier she feels she'll never be able to overcome. But as she navigates her way through each one in turn, she's beginning to realize that it's not so daunting after all.

As the week wears on, Kate can feel Castle's walls slowly crumbling to dust around them as well. He's looser, more open, speaking what's on his mind rather than holding back, and she can tell he's finally starting to believe that he doesn't have to worry about scaring her away. It still makes her skittish at times when she thinks about how quickly and effortlessly they've settled into this, a rhythm forming with practiced ease, as though they've been doing this for months. As though it's not a brand new thing for her.

But parts of it are still new; bickering over who's going to do the dishes, laundry left on the floor, taking too long in the bathroom in the mornings ("Seriously, Castle, your hair looks fine."). And she still occasionally finds herself thinking about going back to her apartment and taking a relaxing bath, only to realize that she no longer has her own apartment. She lives with Castle now. It still feels strange. And at times, she finds herself struggling to balance it all, work and doing the dishes and not having her own space and having to be constantly aware of the other people living there. It's been a long time since she hasn't lived alone, since she's had to truly mesh her preferences with those of others.

It's worth it, though. Crawling into bed with him at the end of every day makes everything else completely worth it.

It's becoming habit now, too, to do their challenge from Burke at the end of each day. She doesn't ask but she thinks maybe it's easier this way, less intimidating for Castle to open up to her beneath the light of only one lamp flickering in the darkness.

Most of the stories over the course of the first week are snippets of his childhood; the hard times when his mother was performing every day, his first kiss and how he later found out that she only kissed him on a dare, the time he accidentally shoplifted a candy bar when he was seven. They're little things, but Kate is growing to very much look forward to this part of their day.

And with each story he tells, she can see that it's getting easier, that he's becoming more comfortable, more confident, more open. That he's actually beginning to enjoy sharing these pieces of his life with her. In fact, their one week was up two days ago, but Castle has been content to continue sharing and Kate isn't going to stop him.

Tonight, though...tonight seems different. He's somber, eyes intense, and when he speaks, she can tell he is lost inside his emotions.

"Do you remember when I got back from Paris?" he begins, and she knows then, knows that whatever he's about to say isn't going to be easy for him.

Kate nods. As if she could forget.

"There was a package on the counter for me."

"Mmm, a book, right?" she asks. She remembers the look in his eyes as he opened it, the long conversation he'd had with his mother, all the while preciously cradling the paperback in his hands. She didn't ask at the time, didn't want to intrude on their moment, and then with everything else, she'd all but forgotten about it.

"It, uh," he begins, hands twisting nervously, and Kate reaches out, catches one and gently covers it with her own. The touch is grounding and as he looks into her eyes, serious but fixed on him with rapt interest, the words come spilling out.

"It was from my father."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	30. Chapter 30

_Author's Note: Thank you everyone who left a review last chapter :)_

* * *

**Chapter 30**

"Your...your dad? How do you know?"

Castle smiles wistfully, and when he speaks again, he sounds so small, like a wondrous little boy stepping into an ancient fortress.

"I was a kid. Maybe ten or eleven, and I was at the library. I was looking for books to read, and I couldn't decide which one. I think I had about six or seven of them spread out in front of me. This man comes up to me – I had no idea know who he was – and handed me a copy of _Casino Royale._ Nodded to the other books I'd picked out and said he thought I might like that one too."

"And you did?" Kate supplies.

"To this day, it's my favorite book," Castle admits sentimentally. "The first time I read it...that's when I knew I wanted to become a writer."

He thinks back to that moment, still so crystal clear in his mind, considers how different his life could have been without that influence. There have been others along the way of course. Damien Westlake. Kyra. His mother. They were always full of encouragement, there to boost his spirits when he was blocked and to pick him up when the school paper wouldn't publish his work or when the first of many manuscript rejection letters arrived in the mail.

Without any of them, he'd likely have given up long ago. Maybe he'd have wound up a teacher, a lawyer. Maybe he'd be floating through life without any ambitions. Any number of possibilities.

But without his father, without _Casino Royale_, the spark may never have been ignited in the first place.

As much as he wishes his father could be a part of his life, wishes he'd been granted more than a few stressful hours with the man, he can't hold it against him. Not really. Because despite his absence, he unwittingly helped shape Castle into the man he is today. And his novels...well, they led him to Kate.

He'll always be infinitely grateful for that.

"So you...recognized him? When you saw him?" Her voice cuts through his thoughts, pulling him from his childhood reminiscences back into the lamp-lit bedroom. He's never mentioned much about Paris and she's never asked, didn't want him to have to relive the nightmare any more than she knows he already has in his dreams. But she's curious and he seems willing to share.

He shakes his head. "No. I had no idea. Not until he told me about it. All these years, he's known about me. About Alexis. He's..." Castle shakes his head, trails off. He's still not entirely sure how he feels about all of this. His father the spy. Forty years of putting the job ahead of family. And yet all the while, watching from a distance.

_I've always been proud of you._

He never realized how much he needed to hear those words until they were floating through the air of the room. He clings to them still, a lifeline, a connection to the father he barely knows, will probably never see again. He still wakes up sometimes wondering if the whole experience was a dream.

"Wow," Kate breathes, caught up in it all, in the bizarre ways in which life sometimes unfolds.

"Yeah," Castle agrees absently, mind still submerged in memories.

They fall into contemplative silence then, broken only when Kate suddenly slips out of bed, bare feet padding across the floor to his office. Castle reaches for her, calls her name, but she only throws a soft smile over her shoulder, promises she'll be right back.

He watches her go with love and longing in his eyes, follows the soft sway of her hips all the way back across the room and to the bed, and though her raised eyebrow silently informs him that she finds his staring creepy, the soft smile on her lips completely negates the conviction.

He doesn't really think she minds the staring all that much anymore.

He doesn't think she ever actually did.

She cradles a book in one hand now, a hardback novel, and careful inspection shows his name on the spine. Derrick Storm. So this isn't about Nikki, then. He's at a complete loss. It's not like he doesn't know she's secretly a huge fan of his writing.

Kate extends the book as she settles back onto the bed but Castle just continues to stare, confused, hands twisted together in his lap. She tilts her wrist, nods encouragingly. "Here."

He takes it gingerly, head cocked inquisitively at the fact that she's handing him a copy of his own book.

"Open it."

He flicks open the cover and freezes in shock, because there on the inside title page is his own handwriting staring back at him, the lines and loops of his signature along with a hastily-scrawled message. It's generic, the same thing he would have written in hundreds of books that day, and there's no way he ever could have known, but he finds himself wishing he'd taken the time to talk to her, get to know her, write something different. Something more special.

He looks up, back down at the page, up again.

"I stood in line for over an hour," she admits timidly, her cheeks a slightly deeper shade of pink than normal, lashes fluttering shyly.

"Was I an ass to you?" He really hopes he wasn't.

"No," she answers. Castle breathes a sigh of relief. "You asked me my name. Told me you liked my scarf."

She still has that scarf. Doesn't wear it much anymore, but she's kept it for years simply because of that one moment.

"When?" He assumes it was soon after the release of the book but he wants to be sure. Wants to collect every detail about the day. Wants so badly to remember it.

"March of two thousand," she recalls, remembering how she spent her spring break curled up in front of the fireplace with _Gathering Storm_, losing herself in the words while her father disappeared into an intoxicated oblivion.

"My mom read your books too," she admits then.

Castle lifts his gaze to her, eyes soft but filled with intrigue. "She did?"

"She loved them," Kate recalls with a smile. "I used to make fun of her for going out to buy them the night they were released. But after everything..." she trails off, pauses to take a stabilizing breath. "There was one on her nightstand with a bookmark in it. I thought maybe if I read it and liked it..."

"You'd feel closer to her."

"Yeah."

"Did you?"

She smiles softly, reaches out to trace the corner of the book cover with her index finger. "I like to think so."

Castle strokes the outline of his signature with his finger, his touch almost reverent as he signs his name with his fingertip on the page. At long last, he carefully closes the book, hands it back to her with care.

"Thank you for telling me this."

Kate places the book on the nightstand, turns back to him with a smile and a loose shrug. As though she was just returning the favor, opening up to him as he has to her. But they both know it's so much more than that.

It's something he'll treasure forever.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	31. Chapter 31

_Author's Note: One more to go after this, and then I'm off on vacation! To anyone who's following my other fics, I'll be starting to focus on more heavily on those when I return._

* * *

**Chapter 31**

"So how have things been going?"

"They're good," she answers with a smile, absolutely no hesitation. "Really good."

Burke folds his hands thoughtfully. "Communication is going well then?"

"Castle's been...he's been opening up a lot more."

The doctor nods in approval.

"And you? I know we didn't really focus on you much last week."

"I'm...I feel like I'm getting the hang of this now," she admits introspectively.

Her posture is relaxed, her eyes bright, and Burke can tell that whatever has happened, it's made a world of difference.

"Of what?"

"Our...relationship," Kate clarifies. "I was..." she shakes her head at herself. In retrospect, she can see that some of the things she was worried about are now so minor. And even the things that weren't turned out not to be such insurmountable obstacles. "I was freaking out about every little thing. I mean, I still...I don't know. It's not as overwhelming now."

"This was a new step for you," Burke points out. "I think it's natural to feel some trepidation."

"I guess." She shrugs.

"You never stop learning when you're in a relationship," he explains.

Kate laughs. That's certainly proven to be true in the past year. For both of them.

"Knowing it wasn't just me helped a lot," she admits.

"What do you mean?"

"That I wasn't the only one who had...doubts. Questions."

"This is something he's expressed to you?"

She nods.

"You seem surprised."

"I had no idea. He always seems so confident." Of course, from their session last week she knows that's not at all the case. "I guess...maybe that's just his way of coping."

Burke nods but doesn't speak.

"But we're doing better now," Kate continues. "We're working through things together."

Together. The doctor nods to himself. He knows it's been a long and trying struggle for her to take the steps from 'me' and 'I' to 'we' and 'together.' But it seems she's now arrived at that point.

And though he doesn't voice the thought, he's proud of how far she's come. If anyone deserves to move beyond their past, beyond their fears, and open themselves up to happiness, it's Kate Beckett.

The session wraps up shortly after that, leaving her feeling much more confident than she has in a long time. And infinitely grateful for Burke's assistance, for the role he's played in all of this.

Without him...well, she doesn't even want to think about where she'd be right now.

* * *

They are well into their third week of cohabitation when Castle first broaches the topic of a housewarming party of sorts. Her father, his mother, Ryan and Jenny, Lanie, Esposito. Maybe a few other people. Just a small gathering to celebrate their living together. Kate's new home.

She's hesitant at first, doesn't particularly feel like drawing attention to it, especially amongst her colleagues. Unless the woman has been rooting around in her personnel file, she's managed to keep Gates out of the loop. So far. And she'd prefer to keep it that way.

But then Castle suggests wine and appetizers and cooking and he looks so excited and enthusiastic that she can't bring herself to say no. And if nothing else, after all they've been through recently, they deserve to celebrate the fact that they've made it through to the other side still fully intact.

Which is why Kate is now standing in the middle of the living room, wine glass cradled in one hand, chatting happily with her best friend about life with Castle, both the mundane and the salacious.

"Where is he, anyway?" she asks, glancing around the loft.

Lanie takes a swig of wine. "Last I saw, your dad had him cornered in the kitchen looking horribly uncomfortable."

Kate drops her head into her hand, groans. Because really, there is only one thing they can possibly be talking about. And over the years, her dad has perfected the art of making his mild-mannered demeanor completely terrifying. She remembers her conversation with Castle when Alexis was going to her first prom, the flashbacks she'd had to the look on her date's face on her prom night. Poor Jordan Matthews was by far not the only guy her father had frightened during her teenage years.

It's been a while now, but she's pretty sure he hasn't lost his touch.

"Speaking of..." Lanie extends the hand that isn't clutching her wine glass, palm up, and Kate glances from the limb to her friend and back again in confusion.

"What?"

"Let me see it."

"See what?"

"The ring," she states, as though it's obvious.

Her confusion grows. "What?"

"Well, I figured we were all coming over tonight to celebrate a certain occasion..."

"No, Castle just..." she begins.

"In which case there should be a ring on your finger."

"Ring?" comes a voice from behind her shoulder. Kate whirls around in shock. Esposito's eyes are darting from her left hand up to both women, and she didn't even realize he was standing there, but she's pretty sure there's no good way out of this. "Are you guys..."

"No," Kate answers flatly.

"Not _yet_," Lanie corrects, ignoring Kate's widened eyes and shake of her head, a quiet plea for her friend's silence on the matter.

"Lanie," Kate hisses.

"Wait, does that mean..." Espo begins, all of the evidence of the past weeks finally coming together. "Did he..."

Kate huffs a sigh, knows there's no way she's getting through this without telling the truth. "Yes, okay," she answers pointedly, in no mood to recount the entire ordeal. Castle invited everyone over to celebrate her moving into the loft. Not...that other thing that they haven't talked about in over a month. And regardless of where they stand on an engagement, she really has no desire to relay the trials and tribulations of her love life to anyone else. Between Castle, her dad, Lanie, and Burke, she's taken quite the emotional beating already.

"I knew it," he says under his breath, eyes already darting around the room in search of his partner.

Her mouth drops open. "You...knew?"

He turns back to Kate. "Not...exactly. Just...where's Ryan?"

And with that, Esposito is gone, leaving Kate gaping in his wake.

"I told you he was trying to figure out what was going on," Lanie chimes in.

Kate huffs a laugh, sips her wine as she watches him catch up to his partner. An animated discussion ensues, followed by a fifty dollar bill exchanging hands.

She narrows her eyes, shaking her head disapprovingly. "I am so going to kill them."

* * *

"So, what's the occasion tonight?" Jim asks as he moves about the kitchen with Castle, helping to chop vegetables for the salad. He'd stepped into the room a few minutes ago with an offer of assistance, and despite Castle's insistence that he relax and enjoy himself, Jim wouldn't take no for an answer.

Castle sees now where Kate gets her stubbornness from.

The first ten minutes were spent in idle chit chat, Castle asking Jim about work, Jim prying for spoilers on the next novel, chatting about things at the precinct. But naturally that line conversation had come to an end, giving way to an awkward lull. The moment Castle was dreading. Because he knew exactly what conversation came next.

He shrugs, busies himself at the stove as he debates the phrasing of his answer. "A housewarming of sorts, I suppose. For Kate, I mean."

"Ah." Jim maneuvers a row of cucumber slices into the salad bowl, nods thoughtfully. "Anything else special happening?"

Castle nearly drops the spoon, catching it just before it clatters to the stove top. "I, uh, no."

Jim hums and Castle's not sure whether it's in approval or disapproval.

"I, uh...Kate told you?" he asks. It's bound to come up at some point, he's certain. Might as well get it out of the way now.

"She did, yes."

"I...uh. I'm sorry. For not asking you first. I mean. I should have. Kate..."

"Is a strong, independent woman," Jim cuts in. "The only person you need permission from is her."

"Oh, well, I uh..." he stumbles over the words, and this is a far cry from the eloquent conversation he'd been planning to have with the man about how phenomenal his daughter is and how much he loves her and how he wants to spend the rest of his life with her and everything else he was intending to say.

"She'll come around," Jim promises heartily, giving Castle a firm pat on the shoulder.

She hasn't said anything to him since that day in the diner when she mentioned the proposal. He has no idea what's been said and done in the previous weeks. But judging by the bright smile on her face and the light in her eyes and the fact that his daughter is now living with Castle, Jim is fairly certain that she's well on her way to donning a diamond ring on her left hand. To taking another step towards the life he knows Johanna would have wanted for her. The life _he _wants for her.

"She loves you," Jim assures him. "I can see it every time she talks about you. You make her happy."

"She does the same for me," he answers truthfully.

Jim crosses to the sink, deposits the knife and cutting board into one of the stainless steel basins. "You're a good man, Rick."

By the time Castle crafts a response, he's already gone.

* * *

He watches him go, crossing to his daughter, and they exchange a few soft words. Twin smiles split their faces, and Kate clinks her wine goblet against her father's glass of water before taking a sip, lips still twitching upwards. She glances over, catches Castle's eye from across the room, and he has to pause, make sure not to drop the salad bowl or trip on his way to the dining room table.

She's so gorgeous, the way she's smiling at _him_, love radiating from her eyes.

And in that moment, he feels like the luckiest guy in the world.

* * *

Jim hugs his daughter tightly before he leaves for the night, whispers something in her ear, and Castle doesn't catch it, but once the door shuts behind the older man, Kate reaches for his hand, twining their fingers together and looking up at him with a timid smile on her face. Her cheeks are slightly pinker than normal, eyes a bit shy. Like she has a secret, but she's not going to tell him. Not just yet.

But he doesn't push, because he trusts her to tell him when she's ready. They've been doing a lot better with this recently - the communication.

They still have their struggles, and he knows they always will. There will be misunderstandings. They'll bicker at times, because if one thing has defined them from the moment they met, it's that. They'll fight too, yelling and screaming and tearing each other's hearts out. But he has faith in their ability to apologize and forgive and move on. They've proven in the past six weeks that they're stronger than their flaws. They've proven that they have what it takes to move beyond, to rise above, to become more.

Hell, they already have. There's always been an overwhelming amount of spice and passion, but Castle's felt their emotional connection strengthen immensely in recent weeks. Kate has been more open and affectionate than he's ever seen her, and even he's aware of the way he's opened up as well. He's stopped holding back, the fear of pushing too hard fading with each passing day.

And when Kate leans into his side, rests her head on his shoulder, he finds himself feeling that, for the first time in months, they're finally on the same page.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	32. Chapter 32

_Author's Note: And we've reached the end of this journey. Thank you so much to all of you for reading/reviewing/retweeting the links, etc. I'm so humbled by your support and encouragement and by the response to this fic. The outpouring of kind words I've received is just so amazing, and I wish I could give every single one of you a giant hug._

_And of course, thank you to Alex for hosting the ficathon, to Angie for designing the cover art, and to Andy for being a constant cheerleader and always having so many of ideas when I'm in need of inspiration._

* * *

**Chapter 32**

He finds her on the rooftop balcony later that evening, silk bathrobe loosely draped over her form, hair ruffled by the gentle breeze. The sun is setting over Manhattan, the skyline silhouetted against a backdrop of oranges and pinks. Down below, the noise of the city is constant, but up here, he notices none of it, every fiber of his being completely captivated by Kate.

Castle crosses to her, bare feet slapping softly against the concrete. He steps up behind her and boxes her in, his arms coming to rest on either side of her on the railing.

"Hey," he murmurs into her hair as she relaxes against him, allowing his solid form to support her. He presses firmly against her backside, gladly absorbing her weight, rests his chin on her shoulder so they're cheek to cheek as they gaze out over the city.

She echoes his greeting, soft voice nearly carried away by the wind.

"Nice night," he offers plainly.

Kate hums her acknowledgement.

"Something wrong?"

She shakes her head slightly, temple lightly knocking against his. "Just thinking," she answers, but her voice seems distant, forlorn.

"Hey." He settles one hand over hers on the railing, gently prying her fingers apart enough to insinuate his own into the gaps. "You can talk to me."

She lets out a weak laugh, shakes her head again. "Just...thinking about DC."

"You regret it." It's not a question. He's been waiting for this day since the moment she turned it down. "Because, Kate, if that's still what you want..."

"No."

He stutters to a halt. "You don't?"

She turns slightly in his arms, sideways now in the cradle of his body, and their joined hands loop around her to settle on her hip. She leans in, dusting her lips over his in a feather-light kiss, pulls back only far enough to rest her forehead against his temple. Her eyelashes sweep over his skin as her eyes slip closed then open again, and he can feel the play of her breath as she speaks.

"It was a good offer," she says softly, leaning back and lifting her eyes to his in the fading light. "But it wasn't for the right reasons. It was a way out."

"Of us, you mean?" he questions, and she sees it flash through his eyes, a moment of darkness dulling the penetrating blue.

It's a long moment before she speaks. "I don't think I could go back."

"Back?" he asks, scrambling to catch up, to latch onto the sudden turn this conversation has taken.

"To my job the way it was before I met you."

"You don't have to."

"I know," she assures him. "But if something had happened to us..."

It all settles into place for him then. "You needed something to fall back on."

"Yeah."

His arms tighten around her imperceptibly. Holding her closer, always closer.

"I love New York," Kate promises softly. "I love _you_."

"Then why DC just now?" he asks around the flutter in his stomach. Even after all this time, hearing those words from her mouth still gets to him, makes him weak at the knees.

"Just thinking how different it would have been."

It would have been one month today. Had she accepted the job, she would have just finished her first month at the AG's office, her first month calling DC home.

She doesn't think it ever would have felt like home.

She still hears Agent Stack's words in her head, echoing through the silence just as they'd echoed through the observation room.

_Who says I want bigger things?_

_Practically everything about you screams it._

He wasn't wrong about her. Not at all. But in a way, he wasn't right either. She wants more. She always will. It's who she is, always driving forward, striving to be better, to do more, to make a difference. It's what she loves about being a cop.

But with increasing frequency, she's found herself wanting a different kind of more. More time at home, more time with Castle. She wants to be more, too. More than just a partner to Castle, more than just his girlfriend. She's never much cared for that word, anyway.

She wants _them _to be more.

"Castle."

She lifts her gaze to his, clear and shimmering in the vanishing light, and she looks so sure, so strong and confident and determined. He has a feeling it's going to be one of those moments where she says something that completely blows his mind.

But she doesn't. She doesn't speak at all. Instead, she slips her hand from his, catches his wrist and opens his fingers until his hand lies flat. His eyes follow her motions curiously, flickering from her face to their joined hands just as he feels a heavy weight against his palm, feels her close his fingers around the object.

He didn't even notice anything clutched in her other hand, but he knows without looking exactly what it is.

"Kate..."

He lifts his eyes to hers once again and she's smiling broadly, eyes brimming with hope and expectancy and so much love that it overwhelms him.

"Kate," he murmurs once more.

She covers his hand with both of her own, cocooning the box within their joint grasp, her thumb stroking gentle patterns over his wrist. She can feel his pulse beneath the tender skin, the energy thrumming through him palpable and intense.

"Ask me again, Castle," she murmurs.

Tears fill his eyes, because she's asking for forever, and he wasn't expecting anything other than a quiet moment when he stepped out onto the balcony but instead she's just given him the best gift he ever could have asked for.

He drops down onto one knee, hitting the concrete slightly harder than he intended, but the pain barely registers. His hands are shaking as he flips open the lid, and his voice catches as he begins to speak, and it's not the proposal either of them ever imagined, but it doesn't matter, because it's perfect just like this.

"Marry me, Kate."

* * *

_Yes._

* * *

**END**


End file.
